Passé

I can't tell you

why she did those things

and felt

all of the things that she felt.

I couldn't save her

from facing those things.

I couldn't help her

when he put his hand on her

and became a vow

a prayer

a litany.

She is a ghost

inside skin

that aches

with verses

and milted harmony.

She wants a home

where she is loved,

where she is treasured,

a jewel

beyond the eye of the sky.

I couldn't tell her

to be strong

she wouldn't hear me

past

the loud music

and

the screams

that she yelled in my direction.

I watched

her hands lift into the air

to write her dreams in the sky

which was

the only place safe for them then.

I couldn't remind her

that boys

put themselves in you

and leave.

They come

they go.

I couldn't convey

that

the sun would continue to shine the next day

no matter how she felt.

I can't tell you

why she felt that way

and did those things

for so long.

I can't say why

she became so numb

behind brunett curls

and mistakes

that piled

higher and higher

until she realized that she belonged no where.

I wish that she knew

that I would be here

to dry her eyes

later.

I wanted to make her see

that her words would flourish in the flame

and her hands would burn with something so beautiful

that all else

would fail

inside her.

I wish that I had said

that this time would be short

and the light

at the end of

the tunnel

would not be scattered

but centered

and that

being all over the place

as she was

is only a temporary mechanism

to keep yourself grounded.

I wish that I had known,

then

she wouldn't be me.