Your death taught me

at far too young an age

the legacy left behind for survivors

of suicide

I was more than a little in love

with your beautiful cheekbones

I could spend an entire class

studying  your elegant hands

I felt that you were a kindred spirit

always outwardly so strong,

so cool

so remote

so protective of the vulnerability

that I could sense

below your surface

I tried to reach out to you

after you lost him

to the self-inflicted wounds

but my voice must have sounded

like a whisper

in a hurricane

Even after all these years

I am so very sorry

that we were not enough

to call you back from the abyss

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved