AS A TODDLER,
you handed me my Teddy when it fell in the sand
AT 5,
you raced me down the playground slide
AT 10,
you held my hand as we crossed the street
AT 12,
you promised to marry me when we got older
AT 14,
you asked me out on our first date
AT 16,
you still called me your girl
AT 17,
we were driving to the movies
AT MIDNIGHT,
the car didn't see us.
IN THE MORNING
I woke up covered in blood, with your helmet on.
When I looked over,
you were holding my hand.
IN THE HOSPITAL,
they told me you might not make it
IN MY ARMS,
you left the world.
IN MY HEART,
you'll forever be.