There are times when I see you in the sky, 

The same one I have grown to detest, 

Not as an angel,

But simply playing in the clouds 

As you always had when you were still here. 

I remember 

But now slowly forget 

The way your limbs connected to the earth 

With every leap, every bound, 

And if I felt you beneath the flesh of my sickly hand 

I may not recognize you now. 

What is my grief besides a horrendously selfish desire 

To hold on tighter when I know it’s time to let go-

But I think I’ve always been one 

To put bandaids over bullet holes, 

And now is no different. 

Though it’s not fair of me 

To try and describe heaven as a dream, 

And hell a nightmare, 

In my mind you will always be neither awake nor asleep, 

But something so dear that once was, 

And I hope that wherever you are now is beautiful, 

As you had been.

Image courtesy of Pixabay.