I sit here wondering
What had occurred,
Writing in my blood
My vision became blurred.

I look at you
Laying upon my floor,
With a knife in your hand
My shift had a tore.

I noticed the blood
Dripping on this stationery,
As I write this goodbye
What happened was scary.

Although I can’t recall
Everything in the right place,
I can remember everything
In its only little space.

For a moment I stop writing
Crawling over to see,
Why you had not moved
Noticing your unable to breathe.

I pick up the phone
I called nine-one-one,
Told them you stopped breathing
They told me they sent everyone.

I opened the door
So they could just enter,
I packed my stuff
And headed to a center.

I left a friends number
So they would hear what transpired,
I left a letter for them to find
Telling them calling a friend was desired.

Leah Schleyer

July 15, 2002

copyright: 2002