I can see it coming,
the phone call that will rip all of the joy from me, the pain that is going to spread through my chest like some kind of necrosis, eating me away. I picture your lifeless eyes and how they will never again look at me like I was something. Your warm skin will be cold like my world has become and summer will have died forever. The river of tears that will flow from my eyes will be the only sign left that there is any heart left in me. Yours will stop beating from the piles of poison you shove down your throat. You will destroy what is left of my coping and ruin me for anyone. You won't feel it when you pass, but I will, with every painful broken throb my heart beats for the rest of my life.