When I was just 17
I fell for his pain.
He was different from me
and yet we were the same.
There between walls
and hospital beds…
There where we said
all the things left unsaid.
All but the truth
of the love that I felt.
But I know that he knew it;
he told me himself.
He signed it in ink
on a board for goodbyes
as we crossed the brink
to begin our own lives.
I thought he was gone;
though in dreams he was near.
“We must love our loved ones
while we have them here.”
And I swooned
as I grieved
and then one day I healed…
Before the wound
cleaved me in two
and revealed…
That he was alive;
it was I who had died.
And all that I’d felt
was because of a lie.
Written by Jason Wright
July 24, 2026
For Brian – on his 50th birthday.