Come Back to Me

September 13, 2008
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You’re there, somewhere; you just don’t want me to see you. You think that if I see the tattered clothing you wore that day, if I smell the alcohol on your breath, if I remember the last thing you told me before you left me, that I’ll think differently of you. But the truth is that I already remember, see, and smell those things. I don’t want to have to recall those things from memory; I want to see you standing in front of me, hands in your pockets with that shy smile on your face.

Don’t act like it’s impossible, because I know better. Come out and hold my hand one last time, and tell me that it’s finally over, because if I don’t hear it from you I’ll never dare to believe it.

Death is no excuse to let go, and I’ll make no exceptions for you. The line is so fine between life and death that I know with your stubborn determination, you can slip back one last time; you can sing me that lullaby you made me; you can force all the darkness away and fill me with warmth without ever turning on a single light.

Don’t give up just yet, not when I’m sitting here in the shadows waiting for you. Open the door and slide between the silk curtains that stand in-between you and I, death and life. Lights will guide you home, but not before you utter that last and all too quick goodbye. You left me behind; you died at the scene of the crash, and left me alone. I still have the car keys, even though they have no ignition to fit them anymore. I kept them because every time I hold onto them and let the metal threaten to cut into my palm, I feel like they’re the only things left in this life that I can relate to.

We’re the same, the keys and I; we’re both broken pieces that can never be whole again. We can both stick ourselves together with another that may feel like a small piece of home, but no matter how hard we try to forget the past and become a whole again, there will always be something missing.

Please come back. I’ll hold your hand again, and pretend that I can feel warmth that is long gone from your fingers. I’ll hug you again, and ignore the fact that you can’t hug back. I’ll try to wipe your tears away, and hope that you can feel me trying even if I can’t quite reach you. Come back to me, and I’ll walk the world with you.

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Sarbear This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 22, 2010 at 6:07 pm
that is really deep, and really moving. i absolutely love this, you have a gift. keep writing... definately. check out my poems :-)
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