Here, but far away.

My footsteps echo as I make my way through the empty house.

I can still hear the shot…
It replays in my head with every step I take.
I’m cold.
All the windows are shut.

I’m smiling.

I sigh.

The emptiness in your eyes…
When the last traces of life evaporated.
You wore death with such style and composure.
It was almost…

…Enviable.

You rest now,
In the ground.

Or do you?

Silent.
Blind.
Deaf.

Dead.

My hands slowly caress the walls… As I make my way through the rooms.
Over all the memories made.
A crack here; from the pan I flung at you.
The hole that housed the nail that held the picture of you and me; I broke that too.
The spot where the paint dulls; from the washed off blood.

*tap**tap**tap**tap*
The echo of my footsteps…
Or your footsteps?
Our footsteps?
One and the same?

You put your hand on my shoulder.
I take your palm in my hand.
Turning, I look at you…
I smile.
You wore death with such cockiness.

I, on the other hand, wore death with elegance, grace.
You always did say I was graceful…

Even in death.
I made you proud.

I look in your eyes.

Life.

I see life.

Or what we’ve come to know as ‘life’…

On the other side.