seeing her:

I sat down on my bed,
& crossed my arms across my chest,
& leaned forward ‘till my eyes
just almost kissed my knees.
And that was perfect; couldn’t see the
world-unidealist, painfully.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
The right decisions were so simple before,
when there was nothing really involved on my part;
no emotion but fear.
Now, sitting here, in this life, I almost miss the fear.
It almost seems a luxury now, to be afraid
of having too much so available to me.
An excess of a commodity I did not want,
but had already ordered.

How did I lose her, the last one? That person I know
only I could’ve saved.
I just had to turn around, didn’t I?
and now, the unimaginable, unbearable, she’s gone,
swimming in the Styx of their sickly hands.
So many things I just can’t ask, can’t let myself.
Does it still make her stomach turn?
Or has she forced herself to learn to tolerate it?
She was on the verge. And I had the opportunity to let her
wait it out & make the right decision for her.
But I panicked when I saw her standing there,
who wouldn’t? I tried to save her but
instead I inadvertently pushed her in.

Sometimes I can’t help
thinking that
maybe her lungs aren’t full yet, can’t help longing
for that person I know
she is
or was.
But these are thoughts I push away.
Even if she’s not too far gone (which I know she is),
I’m not the one to save her. I’d just make the same or
another mistake. That’s clear. I just wish this wasn’t how
I had to learn.