for a long time i've been

mourning for the love i lost

he wasn't enclosed in the presence of another

no, he hasn't wandered to anybody else

but confined in four white walls

the day his hand slipped away from my grasp

isn't because someone was holding the other

he left not to hurt me,

but prevent what's damaging him-

to also not wound me

i wish he had told me sooner

because whenever he would have said it,

the pain would still be the same

he battled against a sickness

that we should've fought together

maybe it would've been better

to see him in the arms of another

than seeing him asleep

fighting against life and death

and might not ever wake up again

clarke, please wake up.

don't leave me.