“smile,” she said.
“do a leap,” she said.
the flash didn’t once blind
the pupils that contained sorrow,
for she knew the polaroids
were to be burned in the fireplace
by Christmas.
and yet no splash of filter
could ever hide her smile of no reality.

Photographs that remind me of when you were happy,
Before the resentful hatred and depression takes over,
Cascading us downwards,
Cascading you further down than me,

Reach out lover,
For our hands are closer than once before,
If you tried, just once,
Maybe I could save you

And death comes without warning,
You only awake when it’s nighttime,
I don’t think you want to be seen at all anymore

So I’ll take the photographs and walk for miles,
For there was a time when you were at peace

But now you’re gone