all the best things
it seems
end abruptly

a thunderstorm in summer
when the clouds suddenly disappear
spent
and the sun starts to shine

the book containing missing pages
that will never be filled
by the author
who died
peacefully
unaware
in his sleep

the sunset
falling behind the ocean
and covered by the streaming
black ink
of night

the shooting star
that you saw
disappear
before the wish
you wanted to whisper
could tumble from your lips

the song
missing the last chorus
that shattered
into a thousand pieces
of silence

the sentence
you always started
whispering
but could never finish

the phone call
that dies
in the dead of night

your birthday
lasting the swiftest
twenty four hours
why does it have to end
at 12am
(when i wasn't born at midnight?)

this poem would
too
if i were brave enough

but i'm not
so i'm ending

on you