The Day We Lost You
In my head I had already written our story.
In vivid dreams you snuggled into me, your everything,
And my world was complete as I gazed at this bundle,
This perfect little piece of me, this miracle.
In my mind we'd battled every storm, each victory
A vindication that all this was meant to be,
That we three were the epitome of creation.
In my dreams you were at once an artist, putting
The finishing touches to your unique canvas;
You were a footballer, city's rising star;
A soloist in a grand concert hall, fizzing with
The confidence love and stability had gifted you.
In my mind I was already crafting your subplots
When you wrote the ending for us, prematurely,
Slipping from me with such desperate cruelty,
Both physical and metaphorical.
You were never mine to sculpt or to control.
But, though briefly, your own sweet entity, a whirlwind
Of individuality I'd never see,
A pod of possibilities, punishing
My arrogance with crushing pain and a thousand scars
From the shattered glass of my broken dreams as you faded,
A fanciful spectre, another story flushed away
Before anyone has the chance to hear it.
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