Omnipotent.

You were all I want to see
in a city where beauty
buried itself under rubble and corruption.
I suppose it was ignorant
to assume you would stick around
forever
like you promised.

Your cheap locket,
the one you gave me
for Christmas, was like bad
foreshadowing in a
day-time soap opera.
I was young, and
having a friend couldn't hurt.
Faithful, I took the heart shaped present.

A year of bike rides and
long conversations about the
most recent installment in your
favorite series
of books. We especially
glorified
running through the streets
as a precious, rare storm poured
out its hope
across the city.

We were getting older, though,
and our lovely games
began to look like insanity.
There were better
games to be played, the ones
that were
based on
curiosity and a
subconscious desire to
feel wanted.

I am glad I moved
before the transition
was complete. Only
you and God know
how
far it would have gone.
Innocence doesn't
last any more.

But to leave a place like
you was corruption by itself.
You can't dance in the rain when
nobody cares about the beauty of a
sobbing sky.
It's simply irrational.

When you called
me I remembered
that worshipping
rain and enjoying
words was everything
but crazy. Our
conversations were
infrequent and always
cut short.

Since nobody ever told me that I was allowed to call you my best friend, I never realized how much I cared about you. Even though you were a risky, fourteen hour car ride away, you were my soul, a perfect example of everything beautiful I had ever seen.

Oh, my God.
You were stunning.

And then,
Life happened.
Dad left.
I grew up,
started dating your friend,
my friend.
He was the right person.
He was the wrong person.

Bad mistakes that seem to
grab me by the neck,
squeeze, and
twist.

The things I
was doing scared
everybody that loved
me, but you were
the only one who
understood what I needed.

Because
you were
always the
only one that
understood anything
about me, knew who I was.

I remember every word.
"Wake up," you told me, "Take a
look at what you're doing. This isn't you."

Being a stubborn, egotistical slave, I
didn't take your words to heart.

I can still see
it. You're sitting in
front of me, gun in
hand, obviously scared.
I am saying the
same thing over and
over again, "Please,
please, please..."
What else could
I do? You
were determined.
"This is your
wake
up
call."

I couldn't turn away.
I had to watch you pull the
trigger
slowly, agonizingly. It was
maddening.

Sirens and an infinite amount of questions.

The answer was simple.
You saved my life by sacrificing
yourself. I would have
destroyed myself, inevitably.

On rainy days, I run for mile with
your hand in mine, screaming
obscenities at rain clouds,
begging them to stay.