Incredulous, I loosened grip until the crash made shrapnel out of my phone.
Sun streamed in mocking rays,
same I imagine would have hit your body,
losing life as I sobbed miles away on my knees.
I crawled feet to the kitchen,
enveloped in arms and salty tears,
saw students filter out of dorms like recycled energy
and made fruitless plans for us.
But
I will never meet your future fiancé,
beaming smiles from her eyes that mirror a future in yours.
I will never again see you dance,
claiming sex appeal that would make Zeus jealous,
while I nod and laugh at the consistency of your cockiness.
I will never experience the comfort
of laying in the heat between your shoulder and your neck,
or stalk out the door with you while the boys exclude me again.
I want to go back and savor the moments
when I was not lost, searching my memories for you.
I ran home into dozens of arms with no faces
but nobody fit quite right.
When I read at your memorial,
I choked at the third word and saw everyone choked with me.
I drive past the curve often,
ensuring silence,
paying no attention to cars whizzing by in impatience.
I imagine you’d scold me,
tell me you’d rather I spend time doing than dreaming.
I imagine cursing your absence
because nothing seems worth doing without you, Fabian.
I long for your humor,
your freedom, your spirit
to mock me outside of my reveries.
But if that’s the only place I can meet you,
I promise I’ll bring you a mix CD
And we’ll listen, top down, legs flailing,
as we drive to our date in the sky
at the crossroads of your heaven and my earth.
I must drive by the scene of the accident at least once a week, either inadvertently or because I miss him. It’s been two and a half years now, and I’m still in disbelief in a number of ways. It’s hard, losing somebody that you’d never imagine would die– especially not one that you’d consider family. Fabian was a rock of sorts in my life, and his sudden passing swept the rug from right under me. Needless to say, my grades hadn’t fared well that semester and even now, I can be caught zoning whenever something particular reminds me of him. Without a doubt, not a day goes by that I don’t think of him.
I wrote this poem shortly after he died. There’s so much I wanted to change about it because it sounds a little juvenile, but when I went back to edit, I felt wrong doing it. Whether or not it might sound better, I can’t alter my emotions at the time. So there it is.
Almost all of us have had to deal with death at some point in our lives, and if we haven’t yet, the time is probably coming. We have the fortune of having certain special people in our lives, and even if we see them everyday or get frustrated because they happen to pain in the asses sometimes, there’s never a wrong time to say that you love them. Because trust me, you will miss them when they’re gone.
-SamSun
atetraks
SamSun
nakeyab