.

.

and just like that

25 July 2012 —

he's gone.
but the world, it keeps on moving.
failing to stop
(or at least slow down)
to give us a minute. a second. 
to grasp the unwanted news that,
he's not coming back.
he was (we were)  robbed, too young. too soon.
death is never easy, i know that.
but somehow it's made easy(er),
by the comfort that they'd fulfilled a long life.
conquered goals.
made memories.
left a legacy, all that jazz.
but where's the jazz in the death of a young person.
in the goals with no time to be fulfilled
in the memories you still hoped to make
theres no jazz there. no comfort.
death is a robber. of you. of us. of all the people that you would have met.
they say the first stage of grief is denial.
if you ask me I'd just assume never move on to the other stages.
because in denial your still with us.
your not gone. you didn't die.
its still unimaginable, in graspable.
theres a little comfort in denial,
i think i'll stay a little while.