I lay in bed thinking about the past.
The darkness is filling my brain as tears trickle down my soft warm cheek.
I feel your fingertips roam across my skin.
You sing me spanish lullibies as I try to calm down.
I hear the trees outside swaying in the wind, the raindrops falling from the dark blue sky, as I'm in here laying in bed, crying.
My chest hurts so bad from all the late nights screaming for you to stay
I'm trying to not think about you, why can' t you just let me be?
I'm still haunted by the memories.
You're standing in front of me holding a thin book in your bony hands.
As I reach to grab it, you disappear and the book falls to the ground.
I kneel down to pick it up and when I see the cover, I back away crying harder, louder, and in more pain than before.
It was "the boy in the stripped pajamas."
I knew you were trying to tell me something, and I knew right away what it was.
They took you away, that’s why we didn’t get to see your cold rotting body.
When I woke up, I curled up next to you and realized it was all a dream… but a couple weeks later, you died.
And I knew why.