"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." You said,
The remaining coherence
As you struggled on your bed
It didn't right away sink in my head,
Absolute courage was my preference
Not knowing your own preference
Glowing away in your exhausted eyes,
You didn't have to apologize...
But did you expect me to let go?
Nothingness. Emptiness. Silence.
All rolled together—pain and sorrow,
A thread was cut to your preference.

They all left, we are alone again,
You, surrounded by wreaths, in your final bed
I on the wooden bench, beneath the rain
That no one sees falling on my head.

You're still sleeping, but never to rise again,
I'm still sitting, but never to be the same again
And it finally sunk in my head,
Your last word shouldn't have been said.

Mar. 24, 2025/12:23AM