That we may ever live as friends

(Broken Feathers by The curse ov dialect)

There is no fading, no disappearing
You are always there, faint, like a notion, like a beat that pulses through my blood.
The concept of you not being here on the physical plane is hard to grasp. You were always there. An email away. A phonecall away. And calling you did.
So many people miss you.
My head started hurting after the ostheopathy treatments. Like little blades stabbing in the back and top of my skull.
Listening to a Schubert Orchestra piece tears started streaming like the waterfall that took your life. That you gave your life to.
I went through all the motions one more time. The images of you falling, they are tucked away, carefully, somewhere in the dark spaces inside my soul. At the dark side of the moon.
The moment of trying to bring you back to life and seeing you look increasingly dead. It was merely your body then.

And I was too panicked to even pray or rest or breathe next to your body that you had left. I just crawled through the jungle in shock, calling for help.

I don't know if I can ever forget. I will have to retrieve the lost moments. I will have to forge new ways to understand.
Spiritual gold out of dark blue pain matter.

That we may ever live as friends.