It’s been five-months since you died and I’m still not quite myself. I prefer when it rains outside because then I don’t have to go out. It’s
those sunny Sundays I fear which make it so unfair. I sob when I look outside because it’s something we can no longer share. So the drapes are drawn
and the blinds are closed so I don’t have to see. I reflect all day the perfect times when it was just you and me. Now these sunny Sundays becomes
my pain of miserable irony
I punish myself with regret for all the things I could not do. I held your head, my tired friend, as I desperately tried to help you. It was your eyes
that said to me I had to let you go. And I choked on my goodbyes as I knew this was the final show. I carried you in my arms for our final ride and
you mustered all your strength just to get inside. We both new it would be the last, we both new it was time to go; I was in no hurry to take you
there and I made sure to drive real slow. I remember looking at the sky above, it was a beautiful December day. A day I will never forget, life’s
poetic injustice the sunny day when you went away
It’s been five-months since you died and I don’t know what to do. I force myself to never heal, all in honor of you. Our walks, our fun, our
silent talks, you brought new life to me. The greatest friend one could ever have, gone so suddenly. But you came back thrice and it was nice as I
felt you on my bed. You even snapped in my ear and for a moment I forgot you were dead. I miss you girl, I miss you bad. Nothing could ever prepare
for these five-months would be so sad as I just sit and stare.
These sunny Sundays, twisted like a mortal tree. Void of passion and void of life my empty home draining and seeping into me. I close my eyes to see
your face and I see you sitting there with all your pride. Longing to enjoy this sunny day with me but I can’t go outside. It’s been five-months
and I’m not quite myself since the day you died.