these walls do have a heart.

If I could, I would tell you all the parts I remember about you;

how the smaller details helped shape exactly who you were,

and much more importantly,

who you almost could have been.

I would tell you how much I miss you each and every day.

It is a very empty feeling, the one I have without you.

Everything is...cold. Even more so than before.

It's not as if you brought much warmth right as you arrived.

Your blood had been drained, your organs disposed of as donations

or...well, sorry to say it, biohazardous waste.

You know, the usual morbid schematics and mechanics.

As usual, I saw people coming in and out--

prepping you, cleaning you,

whispering and...singing to you.

I'm used to the sponges and needles and eventual tears.

The singing was new.

They didn't mention much about you.

They didn't do much other than stroke your face and sing.

Each stroke highlighted something different

as I observed from all around in utmost curiosity.

Their finger gently traced the blonde tips of your eyelashes,

(your eyes were closed and I couldn't help but wonder...

just what color did they use to be?)

the half-smirk indents on the right side of your lips,

(you must've looked glorious when you smiled,

from what I could catch in the echoes of your grins)

your eyebrows from beginning to end,

(you must've furrowed them constantly,

perhaps when you talked about something you had read)

Were you a reader? Was your eyesight strained?

Is that why they traced your forehead, the lines connecting and

leading down to the tip of your nose?

How often were you kissed?

How often did you let them hold your hand?

How often did they pause to see you standing right in front of the sun,

their hearts almost stopping as you practically...glowed?

They may not have said it before.

They may not have had the courage.

But I hope you know, just as they felt, just as they were singing songs

while secretly thinking about your name,

that they loved you.

And I love you now and forever,

just the

same.