A broken mirror
replays moments,
each one asking
what I missed,
seeking solace
in sharp edges of blame.
Fate stepped in for me;
I tried to pay it forward.
Failure was never an option,
but inevitable.
I still carry her shadow,
her absence feels hollow.
Sometimes I wonder
if I'd stayed with her that night,
could my arms
have kept her here?
But the truth is a tide
that drags me forward,
and I hate it,
even as it keeps me alive.
--
For my dear friend Anna (March 4, 2004 – December 22, 2024)
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