Will he understand once he’s awake?
Will he be strong enough, or will he just brake?
Will he be hurt as much as she was today?
Will it be a rainy day?
What’ll be the first thing he’ll say?
What will he think of her?
Will he remember better days?
He’ll wait, she knows, he’ll listen to footsteps,
he won’t hear them again.
But will he be safe?
Will he catch cold if it does rain?
There’s so much he didn’t say
and said a lot when he shouldn’t have,
or when it was way too late.
He didn’t laugh many times when he should have.
But he laughed
when laughter caused her pain.
Will he do something stupid, will he be okay?
He threw away the magic that bound them;
he either did not think or he overthought. Always.
Regrets he might not accept
and tears might come and go
those for her and those for so much more.
He might forget,
or regret losing her.
It will all end later or sooner
How long will he remember her?
How will he remember her?
The moonlight is painting his face blue
and those arms that forgot how to heal, too.
How in the world did they get to here?
And was that last smile real?
She feels a sudden chill.
She puts an extra blanket on him
and then she leaves.