Your body wasn’t the thing to scare me

Your body wasn’t the thing to scare me,

Nor the blood,

Nor the screaming of mom,

Not even watching you slump over

But the gunshot itself.

The day you did it was bad,

But the days that followed were worse.

I quit my job,

I shut everyone out,

I cried,

I slammed my hands against the wall in defeat

“Why not me god?”

I pleaded and pleaded asking for you back,

I couldn’t forget the day I lost you.

I was left with no answers,

But more questions.

I never really forgave myself,

Knowing you wanted to talk to me countless times,

But ignoring you in pursuit of my own selfish greed,

But now you’re gone,

And I can never get those moments back.

Never until you were gone did I truly realize,

How much of my life you truly impacted,

How much of my time you took,

How much I’d love being around you,

And how much I’d miss you.

I keep going back to that day,

Why wasn’t it different,

Why I didn’t reach out to you sooner,

Why I left you alone.

The paramedics asked me your name.

I hadn’t the heart to answer him,

My eyes welled up,

Holding enough tears to fill the oceans if they dry.

“I wish it was different”

I beg and beg,

I scream and cry,

I ruined my life,

I have nothing to go back to,

I just want to hold you in my arms again,

Even now,

As time has passed by,

The memory of you grows old,

And our parents join you up above.

“Why am I the last one?”

In the corner of my home office,

Before the little one walks in,

Wipe the tears from my eyes,

Hide my sorrowness for memories long past,

“I have to be strong for my son.”

A dinner plate ready at my seat,

Just wishing it was you and I one last time,

Sharing a meal,

Sharing some words,

But all of that is behind,

Behind the pane of glass in the picture frame.

I’m the only one left of our family,

But that just means I got to make one bigger,

To please you on the other side.

I wish you never did it.

I wish I could’ve helped more.