I was told there were sunshines here too. For the life of me I cannot find the rays. I begged for her feet to stay on the ground, but they ignored my pleas. We walked a thousand miles together; her feet must have gotten tired. A few inches off the ground is all it takes to lose your soul. I embraced her legs in an attempt to breathe life into her; they remained motionless. I could hear echoes of her laugh, but echoes are temporary; the real thing will never grace my ears again. In my marvel I asked her how was she all the things she was. She smiled and asked me how many things did I think I was. A beautiful soul, she called me, but when she saw our reflections, she saw the grotesque. I bought her every shiny new mirror I could find to shake off the demons—she smashed every last one.

I can hear all the voices except mine; it leaves no echoes anymore, an orchestra without a conductor. How did it come to this? I whispered to myself. You are an inconsequential piece of garbage. How could you do this to her? I could raise my voice, but there was no one left to hear me plead for the sun to shine on her face one more time. I gave her my echoes and my reflections, my shadows and light. I offered her the silence between my breaths; I would surrender to her every other fragment of my being if I still could. Death was never the antonym to life; it is indifference that lingers when all is gone.