Things They Come And Things They Fall Behind Poem by Brian Sonberg

there's blood on your hands
but not yours alone
the warm wet tears
find my shoulder
but find no consolation here
for it was nights like this one
when i'd lay beside you
and there was a future
I thought I could grasp
but the days count ever higher
since I was severed
left for dead

blood-red salty water
pooled around her
milky white chest

but I look forward
and I look onward

never your pain
shall we share again