reasons

you asked

what my story is

in tears i told, each word

blood stained, some scarred

many still throbbing

with each thrust

a painful memory bursts

and you listened

with misty eyes and reddened cheeks

you felt them

you knew what i was saying

then you penned

each line wove in a poem

that gave life to all the pain

that made nightmares real

that told me i was not dead yet

and maybe, just maybe

tomorrow i shall still be here

to read what you have written

then you wrote more

of how it will be, of what i failed to see

of what i dreaded to dream

of why im still here

then there was hope

my wings you spread majestically

atop a cliff

the clouds almost

within my reach

and i flew, dared the skies again

where once i hid from the rains

when once i took darkness

for my solace

while it was bright and blue

outside my cave

then i saw you wave

with a smile

applauding my flight

and i flew higher, and higher

and higher still

then... i saw your shadow turn

nodding your head

content and happy, yes maybe

you've done it

i am now tired...

it was great soaring high

but the winds are blowing strong again

i want to land back

i want to return

yet, i want to keep flying

or remain

suspended in the air

because something tells me

i will not find you there

leaving just your pen

and the space where you once stood

something tells me

there wont be

another poem