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And the cemetery was ageless... 

As I walked up to the elaborate granite bench your ashes had been buried in, I saw the forty-foot bronze angel that was watching over you during your rest. But, no angel in the world could be more beautiful than you, dear sister. You just couldn’t give up the bottle and severe mentalities caused darkness within the depth of your being. You chose to take your life and now I must choose to live even though I wish it was me. I couldn’t save you. You couldn’t save you. We couldn’t save each other. I keep your goodbye letter in a safe place in my old journal. All the entries from the time you were missing. Day after day of using my pen to express how I knew you were missing, but I also knew deep down you were gone for good. No one would believe me. I knew it though. Because I know you would’ve reached out to me….and you did not. Our mother was the last one to hold your heavy bag of bones. She shed a tiny tear and whispered, “I was the first one to hold you, and now I will be the last…” How does a mother say goodbye to her first daughter? I’ll never know how…

And the cemetery was eternal...

As I walked just around the bend towards the grave number three hundred forty-two I saw it clearly. “Michelle Marie” my beloved sister. How could I lose another sister? I always came to visit you on your birthday in late September. I still have nightmares of watching you take your last breath. So slow. So deep. So sad. You just couldn’t give up the drugs. All the highs...all the lows… The last high was your fated death. You were my sister-in-law yes, but blood in my heart. How can I judge you when I too was in your shoes? Too weak to breathe and too strong to die. Each memory I feel of you brings misery from the poor actions on my part. For if not for me, you would still be alive. It was me Michelle…me…I was the one to give you the chemicals in which you died from. I will live on knowing everyday it was me who caused your heart to stop beating. I know I did not force the pills down your throat, but I offered you your death on a silver platter. May my remorse stop keeping me up at night during heart breaking remembrances. I still have the clothes you died wearing in my closet. I shall never throw them out…

And the cemetery was perpetual…

As I walked towards the exit all I saw was death. Death of many poor souls who should still be here being loved by many. Too much suffering in these burial grounds with too much remorse. All the reasons I am alive are all the reasons I should be gone. All the memories I carry of sorrow, are the countless times I needed to live. All the times I needed to live is when I deserved the worst. For I am nothing but a lost survivor of pain poured so purely in my essence. I am not worthy of a safe burial ground. I am not worthy of a beautiful grave. I deserve my ashes to be thrown over the bridge through the breeze and over the clouds. Maybe then I will find peace and an internal balance. I have no balance, just flashes of regret and anguish…

And the cemetery was my hell…


Date Written: May 15, 2016

For the Contest, And The Cemetery Was, Sponsor, Broken Wings
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