Just a story
in a newspaper.
your life
and death.
A picture
of you
and the ones you loved
more than life itself.
but it’s just a picture
a snatch from a better time.
when you still were you.
when you believed
you could make it through.
when the years had not chipped away
at hope and pride and sunshine..
had not yet beaten you.
what does it take I wonder
to beat someone like you.
to beat love, laughter
and the golden ordinariness of peace.
what changed and how?
How did you lose it all?
I read the comments left by strangers
on your story..
People who did not know you
had never heard your laughter
your kind voice
but judge you
why you did what you did
and I wonder too
why?
I knew you
but still the question..why?
Maybe the answer is this..
it takes a lifetime to build a life
one smile, one kindness, one song, one day
at a time
and just a moment to lose it all..
just one moment..
of hopelessness, blinding rage,
Just one moment of oblivion.
When you forget all the good you did
and was done to you.
When you forget that the sun will rise.
The night will end.
The songs can be replayed.
The happy endings dusted.
Just one moment when you forgot hope.
So just a picture now.
A newspaper story without insight.
Just the end.
Cold facts.
Or maybe not.
The other day, I dreamt of you.
Radiant and healthy like the morning sun.
Smelling of summer holidays and pine needles.
Eyes that said..
It’s okay. Here..all is well.
I woke up feeling healed.
Maybe..it is.
Maybe, stories never end.
Maybe, hope lives beyond life.
And sudden deaths.
Wow…. so beautiful…