Your name circulates
the edges of my mind,
always there
beneath the surface;
I cannot forget.

You are gone
and the colours 
of the autumn trees
seem like a hoax.
They mourn for you
too.

And why am I still here
while you have left this place?
What determines one fate
over another?
What right do I have
to breathe this frozen air?

The questions pile
and the weight pulls me down.
I stare at the hole
torn from the future.
I wonder what it could've
offered to you.

And the broken hearts
press against the glass
of my thought stream.

Can I really believe
you're somewhere
better.