Whether you fall

Whether you fall

Once so full of life, your dancing eyes have died,
the light has gone, not even a shadow left behind.
It hurts to look at you, and watch while you die inside.
You let it consume and take from you,
bit by bit like a winter’s tree standing alone in the cold, its berries ravaged by a hungry bird, it’s left you bare.

Your empty shell cannot be broken, padlocked shut by a rusty bolt you remained untouched.
Did you bury the key when you buried him? or did you hide it, wanting it to be found but keeping it as always out of reach?
Each time one of us catches a glimpse of it shining under the rare sight of the sun, you tread on it and push it back under the depths of the frozen ice.

We’ve tried so many times to reach in through the cracks, our fingers outstretched to touch yours, but you’re nowhere, you’re not there, you’re clinging to the edge of your cold shell, hidden in the shadows.
We wait for the shell to crumble, we know it will.
We long for that day when we can lay a hand on your shoulder and hold you in our arms, but what we are terrified of, is you crumbling into the soil with it.
We buried him and we don’t want to bury you too.
Not anytime soon.