You might think itâs about the girl.
Itâs about the boy who diedâŚ
and the ghost who never left.
He stayed because he couldnât bear the thought of her crying alone.
He thought heâd watch over her.
Guide her through the grief until she smiled again.
The first night she came home without him,
she didnât even make it to the bedroom.
She collapsed onto the kitchen floor,
still wearing the clothes sheâd worn to identify his body.
She screamed until her voice disappeared.
at the wedding ring still wrapped around her finger.
like if she said it enough,
God might decide Heâd made a mistake.
His ghost fell beside her.
He wrapped invisible arms around a woman who could no longer feel him.
But ghosts cannot hold broken people together.
They can only watch them fall apart.
She wiped the tears from her face,
painted a smile over a soul that had already died,
She laughed when they laughed.
She answered every âMom?â
Like nothing had happened.
His heart shattered all over again.
The woman standing in that kitchen
This was only the body she left behind.
Every night she unraveled.
She would crawl into their bed,
reaching for the space beside her.
Even though she already knew
sheâd touch his hand instead of empty sheets.
She buried her face into his pillow.
The smell of him disappeared long before she was ready.
Like drowning people search for air.
Some nights she whispered.
She screamed at God until sunrise.
âYou took the wrong one.â
âI donât want tomorrow.â
His ghost screamed with her.
He begged Heaven to answer.
He begged God to let him trade places.
He wouldâve died a thousand more times
if it meant sheâd laugh again.
But Heaven stayed silent.
He watched her stop eating because food tasted like guilt.
He watched her stop sleeping because dreams only reminded her of waking up alone.
He watched her stare at his pictures until sunrise,
memorizing every wrinkle,
every smile she was terrified of forgetting.
He watched birthdays come.
She bought his favorite cake anyway.
Sang Happy Birthday through sobs so violent she could barely breathe.
Then blew it out herself.
He watched anniversaries.
Still spoke to him in the car.
Still turned to tell him about her dayâŚ
He watched pieces of her disappear.
The girl who danced barefoot in the kitchenâŚ
The woman who laughed until she snortedâŚ
The sparkle in her eyesâŚ
She was simply learning how to bleed without making a sound.
People called her strong.
He wanted to scream at them.
Strong is lifting something heavy.
She was carrying a coffin no one else could see.
Every sunrise felt cruel.
Every heartbeat felt like betrayal.
Because his had stoppedâŚ
and somehow hers hadnât.
The cruelest part wasnât watching her cry.
It wasnât hearing her beg God to let her die.
It wasnât watching her collapse on the bathroom floor because she found one of his old shirts hidden in the laundry.
was watching her slowly stop being herself.
Grief didnât steal her all at once.
Then the light in her eyes.
the woman staring back from the mirror
looked exactly like the one heâd fallen in love withâŚ
but there was nobody home anymore.
She had become a ghost too.
Only hers still had a heartbeat.
And if ghosts could breakâŚ
if souls could die twiceâŚ
Every night he whispered,
Every night she whispered,
she wouldnât have to carry this pain anymore.
Because the accident didnât kill one person.
One was buried beneath the earth.
andulkaphoto
amandla
ellievsbear
gamechangershow
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
romaincrisis
blakekathryn
