The End Of Me

The end of me began with the end of she
and though I know that was a year ago
- twenty-seven days ago -
it's still the only truth I see
and though you scratch your head and ask
how can I still remain to be,
when the end of she was the end of me
I ask only permission to speak freely
so that you see...

Her stregnth was my anchor
my swagger and guard
she taught me not to give up
when the going got hard
she taught me there were times to have faith
even when you had nothing left
just the thought of her disappointment
made me always strive to be best
and even when I failed,
when the crest dangled by my side
she gave me nothing but love
she instilled in me nothing but pride
and now I reside in this prison
this hell of locked memories
surrounded by all that she was
and all that she wished for me

And I am weakened...
my will as my soul
is split and torn
I am weakened because
all I can do is mourn
all I can do is cry and wish
and beg for her return
and with every second
I fear I am forgetting
some leason I should have learned
every minute I contemplate the next question
she will never answer
and every hour I reflect on her
killing cancer

It taunted her and stripped her
then snatched her away
And I watched each day as her soul shifted
terrified to look, but determined not to miss it

And at the end I couldn't cry
just floated through the motions
reaching in my dreams for her voice
awakening as I drowned in the oceans
of my tears, fears and years of regret

a parentless child... dying but not dead yet
a baby girl, an adult, but not grown yet

hollow shell, with a changing mask
with no need to fake because so few ask
and so I still exist in this world
even after the end of me

because it all happened with the end of she...