when he dies,
you shake.
completely swallowed with the horrifying
realization that he's gone.

you sleep,
only to dream about how.
you wake up,
only to dread the reality of why.

the fact is,
he's gone.
he didn't feel the need to stay here,
so he left.

without a word.
without a trace.
gone.

and now,
all of a sudden,
now,
at this moment,
people express that they love him.
now,
of any particular moment in time,
he matters.

i can't help
but think
that maybe if he knew
that even the tiniest person
acknowledged his existence,
or maybe if that cute girl,
with the brown eyes
and pink headband,
had told him she liked
his shoes,
maybe he would still be here.


with me.