Be it the empty bed at night or the mornings subtle breeze, I felt her presence. I’d walk in the park to remember her face as it glowed in the afternoon sun. Sometimes I still call her at work even though she’s never there. This disillusioned promise of hope is shaded with sudden facts of reality.
I shed a tear; hold my pillow close eating a scoop of ice cream. Inflicted with beautiful memories I dwell on the fact that she’s never coming home. I put on a film and critique it like we used to do, alas; no more…I dread these feelings of my empty and seemingly pointless life.
I go for a walk, past the park, past the memories, straight to the ledge of insanity. Screaming for God to spare me some sign of serenity, my heart shatters with careless intent. The ledge has become slanted, my sneakers lose grip, feet slip but I don’t move; falling forward into nothingness as I hold her picture within its golden frame.
I cut out my piece of the picture; she’s the only image that’s left in my head, that and the note left to chisel in my tombstone…”The words I verbally bared to you were honest…I’d die for your love”
The impact on the ground some would refer to as our final kiss.