There was a bright light,
And a horrible boom.
When I regained my sight,
We were on the ground.
I reached out to you,
Expecting your hand to grab mine.
But you did not stir.
I pushed myself to you,
And weakly prodded your chest.
But you did not stir.
I repeatedly kissed your dry, chapped, lips,
Begging you to awake.
But you did not stir.
My body wracked with sobs,
And I pulled you to my chest,
My tears leaving clean streaks down your ash-stained face.
But you did not stir.
I watched the bright twinkle in your eyes slowly fade.
And not being able to watch,
I turned away.
But the damage was done.
The image was seared into my mind-
And heart.
It's burning fingers grasping at my soul and heart-
Pulling, tearing, abusing them.
But you did not stir.
Why?
Why do you not answer to my cries?
The answer is obvious,
But I refuse it,
Until it hits me again.
And again.
Over and over,
It is pounded into me.
You will never stir.
