Forever 23
He came to me
like first light spilling over the hills,
soft and wild,
hands too big for the world,
a heart already carrying mine.
Dark rivers for eyes,
a crooked grin that tilted the sky,
a laugh that splintered the air,
pulled you in
whether you wanted to or not.
He chased the wind,
windows down,
music roaring like fire,
brothers riding close beside him,
living fast, burning bright,
a spark no chain could ever hold.
The world kept him away
from what he loved,
and grief carved hollows
where joy should have grown.
Loss stacked upon loss,
yet still he rose,
storm and fire in motion,
a boy carrying shadows
too heavy for one soul.
The road claimed him
one morning in Tennessee,
white metal, flames bending fate,
alone in the truck,
three lives lost,
too cruel, too fast.
And still —
he lingers.
Crooked grin drifting in the wind,
laughter curling through empty rooms,
arms that once held me tight
press me still in memory,
bruising the heart
with a love
that will never leave.
He rests here with me,
for now.
Even in ashes,
he finds ways to love,
to reach, to touch, to hold.
He wasn’t perfect.
He was storm.
He was fire.
He was wild.
He was beautiful.
He was mine.
Forever 23.
And I am left shattered,
a heart broken in ways
the world cannot hold,
grieving a son who lives
in the crooked grin of the wind,
in the curl of laughter through the shadows,
in the press of a hug
that still folds me,
even now,
and will forever.