Weathered

by entropy

Clutching it to my chest,
this person,
this home,
my home,
wasted,
shattered,
broken,
burned.
I can see her,
laughing,
crying,
sleeping,
smiling,
always vibrant and alive,
a spark in her eyes,
shining so bright that the day seems like night.
Then the clouds come
and a storm sweeps it away
and the edges of my vision darken
and the world seems to stop and sit still,
and I try to remember her,
try to see her,
need to see her,
before my heart stops beating,
before the light of the world disappears because that spark was snuffed out,
pinched before it had the chance to burn itself out.
The storm grows louder and louder
and I block my ears,
squeeze my eyes shut,
cry out to anyone who can hear the croaks slipping through my trembling lips,
but the cars go by,
the birds fly on
and she doesn't hear me,
doesn't see me as my mind claws out,
trying to reach her,
to remember what was,
even as I clutch it to my chest
and the rain from the storm rolls down my cheeks.