Death of a Soulmate

I was beckoned to hear the news

On that normal day

And I was torn from my life

When I heard what she had to say

"It's terminal" they said

When I thought you were just stressed

I thought that you were hiding

Or taking a quiet rest.

"She'll be back" I thought

When she's good and ready

And when her world comes crashing down

My arms will keep her steady.

But they told me you were sleeping

They said you might be able to hear

The things I tried to tell you

And the memories I hold so dear.

I begged your eyes to open,

I willed you to squeeze my hand

But all of you had faded

I just couldn't understand

I knew you were in there somewhere

Fighting so hard to come back

But the evil had taken hold of you

And possessed what I now lack.

Your pretty face had hollowed

Your bones protruded your skin

But I never failed to notice

Your beauty still within.

It's in the eye of the beholder

And yours was not skin deep

And that is why I'm grateful

For the memories I can keep.

That doesn't make this easier

And it's certainly not enough

I'm trying so hard to channel you

So that you can keep me tough.

You named me your soulmate

And I named you mine

But now my soul has been torn apart

And I'm begging for more time.

You'll never see me marry

And my children you'll never mither

But the saddest part of all of this

Is I'll never see yours either.

I'll never see that purple heart

Or those little dancers

And forever more I'll search and search

And never receive the answers.

I'll never find the sense in this

There'll never be a worthy reason

And everyday I'll think of you

For every second of every season

We'll never share our clothes again

Or more memories for us to treasure

And the depth to which this pains me

Is impossible to measure

Your humour was dark and twisted

Though always quick and witty

But your heart was always full of love

Even when things weren't so pretty.

You were one in a million

A cliche, yet so apt

And it's cruel to think that life goes on

And people will adapt.

Why is that the way things work?

Why is that tradition?

When hearts are breaking and lives are ruined,

As we fail at this transition.

Why does the rain still fall from the sky?

Why does the earth keep turning?

When our world has been destroyed

And all that's left is yearning.

I wrote this poem during the first week after my best friend passed away. It was cancer that took her, a brain tumour to be precise, and she was twenty-two years old. She didn't see a doctor for her headaches until it was too late, and I assumed that her headaches were caused by stress and emotional turmoil from a recent break up. There were four weeks between her diagnosis and death, and these were spent in a coma. I am sharing this to remind people that nothing is permanent or guaranteed and if you love someone, make sure they know. Thank you for reading this far, and I hope that I have been able to help you in some way, as you have helped me.