You have to know that she didn't kill herself that afternoon.

It was a mild day in January,
we sat outside over sandwiches.
She said she had begun to practice yoga again,
take biking lessons,
rewrite her poetry with lust and pride
and so she didnít kill herself that afternoon.
She hugged me, went home,
cranked the garage doors open,
scuffed through the garish leaves
of orange and red that brought on grief.

This struggle we are struggling isnít ours alone.
We did not invent loss.
We are not the first to have vows smashed
with a bitter hammer.
But god, she has been battling pain
with bare-knuckle fists for days
and I just wish I could fight for her,
wrap her up safe and make her whole life
naps and burritos
and first kisses.

You have to know that she didn't kill herself that afternoon.
In the mess of loss and longing
I tell her to not forget that
there's a place for her to rest in my rib cage.
Tell her that this world will cherish her beyond time,
I promise.
Love her even when it makes no sense to love her.
This world will force her breath and she
will keep on living.

Sometimes despite of herself.
Written by heyycyanides (Joa)
Author's Note
Mood: What Sarah said by Death Cab for Cutie
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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