You always said to treasure the gold that you had.
I took it as a literary phrase, a bite of desperation at dumping me into an ocean of words.
But now I know what you mean.
My hair falls softly now, white and crisp at the end.
My watery blue eyes are always open during night.
My tears feather my cheek, only leaving patches of misery.
I've always been told high school romances are overrated.
But was our love overrated?
You always gave me warnings about yourself.
How you wouldn't last too long on this planet.
How you wouldn't always smile at me after a teacher reprimanded me for being so cheeky.
Now, you leave a empty hollowness that cannot be filled by anyone.
I used to blame you for my losses.
Used to blame you because my heart's emptiness could not be filled by anyone's love.
I remember the last words you said to me.
I repeat it to myself at night.
I can't remember your voice, so humane and deprived of the gloom that I feel now.
"Please don't hate me."
My son comes in.
Your son, actually.
He's older than you'd expect.
If you saw me now, I'd look like a pedophile compared to you.
My voice is raspy as I respond.
He hands me a pill that is supposed to help me sleep.
It can't replace you and your warmth.
But I let the darkness swallow me, succumbing to a word with no light.
A world with sleep.
But a world without you.