Still Here.

I can still smell the spring rain in the soil, and the marrow of your bones.

You´re still here.

I can taste all the blood slipping from your veins, and the salt of your tears.

You´re still here.

I can still feel the softness of your skin, and the sheer violence in my breaking heart.

You´re still here.

I can still see all the life leaving your eyes, and our hands interlocked with rigor mortis.

You´re still here.

I can still hear the lightening bolts, and the soft gurgle in the back of your throat.

Why are you still here?