What You Left

these were the things you left behind:

a half-empty iced coffee

a bag half-filled with textbooks,

some homework spilling out the sides

three unlabeled CDs, mixes that you made

just for me

a novel with a bookmark halfway through

a poster from your favorite TV show

a soft, worn hoodie that I gave you 3 years ago

that you were always wearing

a hastily written suicide note

where you tried to explain your depression

and made sure I knew that it wasn't me

you were running from

an empty casing

from the shot that ended your life

that made my nightmares real

and never-ending

and a girl, hopelessly in love

with the shell of the man you were

who would've done anything

to save your life