I held you in my arms,

Cradling your body.

You didn’t move.

I couldn’t feel a breath.

Should I call for a paramedic?

All of a sudden

I felt the weight of the world

Crashing down on my shoulders.

Compressing me into some shape

That’s not been discovered

Or defined

Some boneless creature

Lying in a gelatinous pool on the floor.

My fingers brush through your hair

And all I can think to do

Is to think.

All of the “I should have”s

And all of the “I really ought to”s.

Words that were just on the tip of my tongue

That could have danced their way to your ears

Like dandelion seeds in spring.

Yet they remained firmly planted in the garden of my mouth.

Taking root, blossoming.

Happy memories come to mind.

They aren’t quite as strong as the bad ones.

They linger, like light in a thick fog,

Then disappear.

I can’t catch my breath.

We were going to celebrate so many more birthdays together.

So many important markers

That make a life worthwhile.

Christmases. Anniversaries. Trips to the grocery store.

Arguments (yes, even those too

Should be observed, like a federal holiday).

Simple things that make a life more meaningful than it appears.

Hello, Operator?

But here you lie.

Still. Cold.

Unmoving.

Can you send a paramedic as soon as you can?

Is my voice even reaching out to you?

Can you hear me?

Please…I need this…