The Last Time

 Such a subtle warning, neither siren nor light caught my attention. A peculiar sadness in your eyes flicked for a moment then hid cleverly behind your smile.

 However could I know that you wouldn’t always be coming back home?

A final embrace, the last time I would circle your neck, stroke the back of your hair and squeeze your hand.

 I walked away without looking back, deep in thought on other things. A busy day at work, a list of errands. So many details, and so little time.

 Had I turned around would I have known? If I had looked would I have seen? If I had seen, would I have guessed? Did your smile, faded and worn slip silently from your face?

 Crushing your sweet-smelling shirt to my face does little to ease the sting. Your photo still sits smiling from the dresser. I have warned those friends and family who sit unguarded as I once did…you never know the last time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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http://www.hopeline.com/
 http://www.griefwatch.com http://www.mental-health-matters.com/disorders/dis_details.php?disID=15
 http://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org/?Media=PlayFlas