The loud whirring of the oxygen entering your broken lungs; your mind exorcising the loneliness, I heard it all.
Your hands shaking because I think somehow you knew. Your soul was tired; your body was begging to be set free. I heard it all.
I was left in the aftermath of your battle. Selfish words spilled from the lips of those who never cared to indulge you in conversation. Tears shed from the eyes of those who would simply move on as if your feet never imprinted the sea sand or hands never touched the trees. I heard it all.
My analytical mind found itself craving normality. It craved academics and as deadlines creep closer, but my heart was heavy. I knew you weren’t there to see me soar anymore. I heard it all
You were the colour yellow, you were the colour blue. You were the roar of the ocean and the sound of the wind. Someday I will be free of the slurry of memories that surround me; choking me; buring me. I still hear it all.
In honour of my grandmother who recently passed away. I hope you found peace.