Our happy ending

I'll be here, 'waiting',

His last words,

I am now awake,

(I'll be here, 'waiting',)

I stare down at his gravestone,

I'll be here, 'waiting'

carved into the lichen covered tomb.

My angry

(tears)

hands dig into his

(grave)

resting place.

Broken glass from old beer bottles and thorns from dead roses left from family poke my skin.

Blood covers my hands and soaks into the awaiting ground.

I scream,

My bloodied hands scream at me in pain.

Pain is good anymore, I can actually feel something.

I know my cries won't bring him back,

but maybe, it'll leave me mute for the rest of my life.

Just so others don't know about my pain.