and the flowers mark the tree stuck

the white gravestones all exactly

the same

i remember i told you i loved cemeteries

the peacefulness made me feel like i was all alone

even though a thousand lay neatly in rows six feet under me.

sometimes,

when i couldn't help myself

i looked at the headstones

read the names pictured the faces counted the years

some lives so short I wondered again why God

takes children

makes me question if he really

is so incredible

eyes full of morning sun light

heart full of regret

why is the breeze so cold?

and why doesn’t it rain anymore?

you’d say it was because

there were too many tears

i’d ask whose crying

it’ll rain once we’re happy again

and the water will fall from the sky instead of my eyes

then i’ll feel the warmth, the budding heat

deep inside me like a building

flame, flickering…

maybe…

but that was before

you never were a good driver

except this wasn’t your fault

when the sun was creeping down the tree line

like paint dribbling down a wall

blue and red lights flashing

the clouds drift in. A purple-black bruise above your cheek; the night sky without stars

i hate this part

when you don’t open your eyes…

your bottle-green eyes…

and i hate how you have the same white headstone

as everybody else

you were always so special to me

every day I put the daisies-your favorite- under the tree you hit. The bark is still ravaged...

after you crossed three lanes and flipped three times

three times the charm you always said

i’m not laughing

it still doesn’t rain

and the days grow colder

my eyes are full of morning sunlight

my chest as hollow as if you took

my beating heart with you