Staring at the sone, and the flowers that cover it,
tears roll down my face,
unstoppable.
In my mind, I can hear them laughing.
I remain silent and immobile,
no thoughts of drying my face.
The flowers are decaying,
the stone covered in leaves.
I try to brush away the leaves, shakily.
My hand too unstable even for such a small task.
My face curls into a terrible grimace,
in a useless attempt to keep my emotions from bursting out of me,
and onto the ground.
These attempts are in vain.
My tears flow like a great ocean,
unable to be dried up.
My lungs feel as if they will cave from my screaming.
I collapse to the ground, burying my face in the yellow and orange leaves.
My tears soak into the ground, and an immature thought finds its way into my mind:
maybe she can feel me.
Suddenly a warmth filled my entire body,
my entire being.
This is something I had never felt before.
I feel as though I am being lifted up
into nothing,
but everything
all at once.
She is always here,
inside me,
and she will never die.
I stood up, dried my face, and walked away slowly.
I felt whole again, but the warmth was
falling away from me.