it all came crashing down
this afternoon
when the wind started blowing
and i’d written everything i had to say
down and already sealed it up
it all became real, not for the first time but for the last,
it should’ve been me
your words were far from comfort
you never knew how to hold someone
with your phrase,
but damn,
your presence could heal
a dead man walking.
but none of that matters now
because everything that i
have lived for is gone
and each day that i
pushed myself to
breathe in
breathe out
was wasted on a false hope
that only now has
become such.
it’s a deceiving tale—
weaved through
thirteen years
of hatred and tears
filling up the ocean
letting me sail across
the barren dessert,
the tears had counted for
something back then.
not now.
now i know they were wasted.
it should’ve been me.
it should’ve been me.
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