When I think
of how
scared you
were, and
how you held
your stomach
tightly

and how the grass had been so dry
this summer
and the people,
so sick

of you
hunched over your
bed,
a tissue
in hand,
a heartbroken
plea to God.

I want to be
everywhere you are
and I want you
to know
that the world hasn't
turned it's back
on you.
That I'm afraid too
and that nobody
blames you,

Oh, Adonide,
nobody blames you.