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i heard a...what do they say...a spine chilling scream
...is that the saying?

a spine chilling scream
followed by

'he's dead, my G_d he's dead'

the phrase echoed 
inside the whole of me
like tennis balls bouncing between two parallel walls

i ran up 
aware i would be at the edge
where the road ends and the gates of heaven stand

saw a young man 
looked through the aperture of his existence 
looked and singed his eyelashes
looked and could not see beyond now

you know those beautiful fluffy white clouds
the kind that feel like large teddy bears that want to hug you
she had landed her very own- she cherished him
knew who he was
felt lucky they shared a mutual love 

i can't imagine the despair 
flowed through her when she saw him like that

his doughy complexion screamed volumes
breaking the thunderous silence
he was a pale grey, blank, empty
a sight impossible to process 

at odds with how one survives
the experience of this tragedy
she was lost in a dreamless mare

[most of the time 
life 
its outcome depends on the flip of a coin
if you don't know that you don't understand 
life
his coin landed on its side 
...all the kings men and all the kings horses...]

her 'beautiful huge fluffy white cloud'
had succumbed to the storm

heart in throat 
hesitantly 
she touched him
he was a frigid cold
for a moment she saw her own smokey breath

moving as if she was walking 
through the thick grains of unbearable pain
thoughts racing 
she attempted to make sense of the senseless

despair had grabbed her by the throat
shook her around like so much thread and fabric

she thought he might of seen life as futile 
society as a guise, as a failed paradigm 
thought he had reached the last motel on the road to nowhere
and just...checked out

depression 
the illness 
it's unlike any other pain
when it peaks
few if any survive it

the afflicted instinctively self medicate 
but street drugs are mean 

she could easily empathize 
she too was him

honestly she was tired of living in her sadness 
a life marinated in tears basted in blood

the experience of having seen her partner
lose his life to drugs and alcohol 
affected her profoundly 

experiencing his death
was like getting hit over the head with a sledgehammer 
she'd never wash it off
it clung to her like a pariah 

you can't wake up from reality 
and you can't sleep through it
the tragedy had possessed her sensibilities 
it was a malignant truth she could not ratify 
singular in its nature
unfathomable

she'd been blindfolded and spun 

a ballerina on a high wire across the span of time
spiralling down an infinite vortex

one plus one is seven
the ceiling isn't a celestial painting
how many fingers
a forty ounce of vodka
opioids a hundred times stronger than heroin
men in uniforms

and

and

...lost...

what happened?

less than two hours ago 
he could think- speak
he had his very own persona

now 

lying there

as

nothing

it could have been her
it could have be anyone 
but it wasn't 
it was- Him

what did occur to her

was 

the loss.
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