Monday, September 17, 2012

It's taken 6 months to get over you.


Today the school is grieving for some poor teen leaving.
She threw herself from this world and away from pain.
Reminding me of losing you; at least the preparation phrase.

Harry Potter books, a touch, your treasured red dress. Coffin.
Your favourite song 'Valarie' (Glee version). Eulogy.
Dressed in yellow, matching shoes. Funeral.

I had a few plans for afterwards, a key to your house.
Lying in your bed, inhaling your scent.
I made lists to remind myself of the girl who held my hand,
not knives and blades to carve scars shaped like names.

Enough of this.
Things are better now; heart related problems, nightfall's sadness
and aching chests have decreased. Summertime sadness remains.
I fill your absense with others, slowly forgetting the traumas

One by one; people help the people. Please dial triple zero.
Some discuss the selfishness of the act or joke about slitting wrists,
while I have a new appreciation of what a "tough year" means. 
How I am grieving for golden days leaving.

Sometimes I think my greatest achievement was loving you.