How She Feels

Every now and then
I let my guard down,
my fat little smile slowly
Turns upside down.

I forget of right now
and remember what was,
reminiscing of bedside time
with her in hospice.

Did I sign too early?
Did I give up too fast?
They say time heals all wounds.
Really? So how long will this last?

The days up until that moment
are always the hardest,
wondering if the decisions
I made were at all the smartest.

She was my world,
my greatest best friend.
I numbly laid next to her
Till her dying end.

I remember gently cutting
off locks of her hair.
The smell of her touch
somehow still lingers in the air.

I still haven't found peace
I doubt I'll ever find god.
My whole life from then on
stuck in an awed.

My mind ponders and imagines
what could have been,
If had I only waited 14 days
Instead of just 10.

Your death on my hands,
my signature on that line.
So people, don't ever believe me,
when I say, "I'm ok, I'm just fine! "

No one understands
the trauma I endured.
Holding in years of tears as your child,
My feelings stay obscured.

Poetry is my outlet
my way of expression.
Much more easier
than that of suppression.
Or even going to jail
On some bullshit aggression!
You would have thought by now,
I would've learned my lesson.
Instead I admit I am,
A person of regression.
spending more days than I'd like than admit,
Submerged in depression.

Using words to express my pain,
When thoughts of 'should have's'
and reoccurring nightmares
drive me insane!

10 years long, in time, it's been,
I can forever go on,
but like all things else
I'll just leave at,

   La Fin.