I remember the night it happened,
See the blood,
Hear the bullet as it enters his body.
Remember the scream….
Is it me, I’m not sure anymore,
Things are going by like a swift December wind.
Watched him tumble to the ground,
Like a mass of broken bricks.
I tried to catch him, but couldn’t move…
….Frozen as if paralysis had taken over,
I regained my strength,
And rushed to his side,
…I cried…
I felt for a pulse, a heartbeat, something,
To know he was still alive.
But there was so much crimson blood,
Instinct told me to hinder it,
Reached out slowly, covered the holes with my hands,
Never realized how fast blood flowed
Or how much there was in the human body.
“Oh God”
“It’s on my sweater!”
I kept rubbing…
..it moved further up my arms before long,
they were infested with it.
“how long can he survive like this?”
Have to get him out of here.
“Help me get him in the car. I don’t want him to die!”
Someone told me not to bother…
I refused to believe,
He couldn’t be.
Not now,
Not after everything we’ve been through,
Threw myself to his blood ridden chest.
Someone pulled me off
“Say goodbye”
they took me home that night ,
covered in his blood.
He’s dead, I live.
Washing it off seemed to take forever.
It feels like its still there….
On my hands,
On my face,
On my clothes.
No funeral, and to everyone who knew him,
…No Body….
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