*WARNING* Poem references suicide. Scroll on if you can’t/don’t want to read. 

It’s late,
and so I wonder if she tried

tried so hard to wait
until no one was below her.
But I’m coming home
and the sirens are the only light
on the street
and they flash
red blue red again blue again
across the sheet.
It covers her,
not her shoes.
Mom had a pair like that,
but she never wore them.
I saw her
even though she tried
and I want to fix the shoes,
tie the laces for her,
But it’s too late.
I drive home.