I Never Got To
“There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.”
― J. Michael Straczynski
i never got to say goodbye,
and now off you go, in the yellowing skies roaming free.
i never got to hold your hand one more time:
last time was the last time.
and i certainly never got to kiss those big lips of yours on the day i’ll never forget,
because Death got to kiss you before i could.
i never got to tell you there’s a teeny little baby growing inside me,
and that the baby is not just mine but ours.
i always thought you’d be my forever;
clearly, i was living in a fantasy land in which you weren’t a part.
i always thought we would grow old together,
greying and laughing more with every year that passed by us like leaves.
i always thought i’d see you first thing in the morning,
not just because of a dream that felt all too real for my sanity to stay, well, sane.
i feel i can’t go on without you,
and i wouldn’t if it were just me.
but i bare the weight of two now,
although without you, it feels more like three.
i lift my head high every night,
hoping to see your face when i close my eyes and look toward Heaven.
i lift my shirt up every morning to see my belly grow more and more,
wishing you were the one photographing the progress of Genaveve, not me.
i haven’t forgiven you yet,
for leaving me — no, US — the way you did.
i haven’t forgiven myself yet,
for not telling you the news of the baby before you did what you did.
i haven’t forgiven your counselor yet,
for releasing you after six months,
claiming you were allegedly healed.
i haven’t forgiven your best friend yet,
for not telling me how often you played with your gun every time i was away.
i haven’t forgiven the…