Gone

And I called you from a cell phone

When I reached the bus station

You pleaded with me as I boarded the Greyhound.

And I snapped the phone shut

Cutting off your voice

I couldn’t afford hesitation.

And I stared out the window

Streaks of landscape combined with elevator music

Leaving my mind free to worry about you.

And tears traced their way down my cheeks

But I couldn’t turn around

Because our baby’s laughter haunted me.

And I remembered a warm day in June

With me in a long white dress

As you fed me cake.

And I remembered a windy day in March

When I breathed heavily in a sterile hospital room

As you squeezed my hand.

And I remembered a soul-wrenching moment in time

When I realized my angel was stolen

As the world crumbled into dust.

And now I lie in the gutter

My blood slowly staining my shirt

My tears falling unnoticed.

And I look up to the stars

Barely visible through the city smog

The same stars you used to name.

And I think of you

All alone in our house

As I whisper an apology to the sky.