February 10, 2013
By , Chatham, Canada
The moon is like his life,
It shines through the fog,
It's beam cutting the gray sky,
Above like an upside-down ocean,
Where my happiness has drowned,
Because it couldn't catch the moon.

The gravel crunches under me boot,
I cannot feel my legs,
The wind whips me cheek,
And I don't flinch; I deserve it,
The trees grimace through fog,
Pointing their branches at me,
As if tell the police where I am,
The sky weeps for me,
I turn my head up,
Mixing my tears with the sky's,
Cold and salty.

I see a light heading towards me,
On the country road,
Where I killed him:
I was driving,
He wasn't wearing his seat belt,
Oh God!
The light is like the moon,
It shines on me and lights me up,
I'm like the sun,
I jump from the side of the road,
And make an eclipse.

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TheSkyOwesMeRain This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 14, 2013 at 10:52 pm
Great, wonderful imagery. I particularly liked the guilt and the grief that was shown throughout this poem, and the new perspective. We typically don't get to see the person-at-fault's point of view. 
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