I remember when
we used to play pretend.

Running around the house
was our time.
For us, and no one else.

Often we would play "War,"
with guns,
and tanks,
and planes.

One of us would pretend to die,
one of us would pretend to win.

The victor would stand over the body of the other.
Arms would be raised in triumph.

But on this day,
I stand over your body once again.

Not in triumph,
But in turmoil and misery.

I am not the winner of a pretend game...

Instead,
I am the loser of this reality.

A pawn to this sick existence.

I realize now,
that this is for real.

I cannot bring you back with tickles and laughs.

Not this time.

You are gone,
and I would give anything
to have you at my side
one more time.

I need an ally
to help me fight this war.

This war that I face alone.