With What is Left

Carried by the wind

rain falls–

Hitting my already wounded skin

leaving new marks

                                    and piercing through some.

The sky grunts as the blood drips on the ground

                                    pink. The colour of fresh bruises. Mixed with rainwater

flows away…

                                    Nothing.

Goosebumps cover my body

I did not carry an umbrella

                                    shivering because of the cold, or trembling because of the fear?

She’s gone–

Forever.

The stone that carries your name

is as cold as when you were alive.

                                                                                                “Discipline,

                                                                                    Is a virtue.”

“Is not!

 Please,

             Please,

                         Mum, just listen to me–”

You didn’t.

Peace for piece

yours for mine.

                        Only we know–

                                                Only we knew–

We did

but now only I do,

‘Discipline is a Virtue’

I smile