When I yell at you when you’re about to do something stupid,
When I cheer for you after you win a duel,
When I tell you your best friend isn’t really dead,
I know you can’t really hear me.
When you felt all alone,
I was there for you, though you couldn’t see me.
When you argued against another,
I rooted for you, though you couldn’t hear my whispers of encouragement.
When you were fighting on the battlefield,
I was one of your soldiers who fought bravely at your side.
When you were in pain and lying on the bloodied ground,
I tried to heal you with the voice you couldn’t hear and the hands you couldn’t feel.
Now you’re dead,
And there’s nothing I can do,
Except scream and cry while I hold your finished book close to my chest.
I didn’t want the last sentence to end this way.
I wanted you to be alive and happy,
With a family and a safe, relaxed life.
Now I’m the one all alone.
I couldn’t save you,
Even though I wanted to.
If I had the power,
I would’ve leaped into the pages,
And made myself real in the text beside you.
I would’ve become one of your comrades and soldiers,
You would’ve known me and I could’ve sacrificed myself to save you.
Then maybe your story would’ve ended differently,
In the way we all wanted.
©Amelia Jacobson 2017
(Image link: unknown)