What do you do when the other half of your soul wants to die?
When the heart of the one who holds the pieces of yours together is dying?
What do you do when you know your soul will die with theirs but at least their suffering will end when yours begins?
Do you save them?
Let them go?
If you can't convince them not to die, can you convince them to live?
What if they can't?
Won't?
What if every smashed table, broken cup, shattered glass is a piece of one's mind coming apart?
What if every cut on their skin is felt in your heart? Every drop of blood spilled a tear wrenched from loving eyes?
What if a soul that shines so brilliant in its darkness, like glittering obsidian, wants to pass on but it hurts to release its beauty?
Knowing obsidian can be honed to the sharpest blade, can slit you open like a kiss, can you still relinquish it's beauty?
Can you sacrifice the love of your life when all they want is death?
Can you continue to live after they die?
Can you watch them go?
Or do you look away as though it will prevent the pain? Close your eyes tight and pray their soul to keep?
How do you save a life that wants to drown? That welcomes the shark-like jaws of death to their bleeding bosom?
Should you try, knowing you'll be cut by those jagged teeth, too?
Do you wipe their brow of plague knowing pestilence will pass to you?
Is it selfish to want to hold they who are your very breath, even though they beg you to exhale?
Is it wrong to fight for a brilliant mind and not let a lifetime of memory disappear like pages burning to ash in the wind?
How can you allow the light of your life to snuff itself out?
How do you let your heart drift away in the storm?
How do you watch life's blood pump out upon the ground without putting your hands to the wound?
But what if saving them hurts them more?
If for them living is pain and for you dying is pain, what's the better choice?
Do you have the right to be selfish when it comes to life?
Why is existence so painful for some to the point of sacrificing the gift of being?
If they throw it away, can you rightfully snatch it up?
Do I let you go?
Do I make you stay?
Do I even have the choice?
I refuse to let go.
But you're going to leave anyway.
You're already gone.
I love you.
Please don't force me to let you go.
I don't know how.
I don't want to.
Sorry not sorry...In so many ways.
Oh God... I've lost my breath.
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| Photo by Nica aka Eileen. Editing thru PicsArt |
