Seven Deadly Sins

When you left, I wanted to come with you.
I think about it still, every breath I take an inconvenience.
When I see you in my sleep, you tell me hearing this makes
you sad. In my dreams, you tell me to remember only the
good times but when you left, my heart,
everything good left, too.
Everything good and beautiful went with you.

When you left, I dug myself a shallow grave next to you.
I was a child again, imitating every little thing you do –
you knew you were always my role model so this was the
most natural thing I could do.
Because you left.

You left. I saw it happen.
I begged you to stay but you couldn’t hear me,
couldn’t see me, you had to go;
and I wanted nothing more than to leave everything
behind and come with you.

Wherever you are, I still would rather be next to you.

If not for me, then for that time you said nothing
was more painful to you than being away from us
and I know,
I know you’re not hurting anymore.
They keep telling me you’re no longer in pain.
But I am still holding your hand in that horrible room
and begging you to stay.
Half a year later, I am still crying at
your feet as I have to watch you leave.

Baba, you always knew I wrote poetry.
And even though you never read any of it, you were always
proud of me.
But what you didn’t know was that you had made my life so
beautiful, so easy –

I had always envied the poet who didn’t have to borrow or
exaggerate pain to write, but now I understand,
now I know,
I would rather have you here than the pain I need to write
this poem.


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