I am

I'm the day you cried for me.

Was it the pain that suffocated,

or the tears?


I'm the day you ran away.

Did you mean to be hit,

or was it an 'accident'?


Does the hurting stop when you die?

Does it cease to be?

Are you safe somewhere I can't follow,

Smiling when the living mourn?


I hate to be the reason you are gone,

But it doesn't matter how far you are,

My knife is always further.


You can't make me cry,

And you can't make me run.

I am the day you realised I'm not longer as prisoner.

I am the day you knew I'd left you long ago.

Does it hurt to know you're gone?


I am the reason you can no longer breathe these words of hurt into my soul.

I don't mean to not cry,

but it's hard to care for someone who is dead in your heart.