17 then 45 after

it's 17 after and i'm looking
at death warmed over
sometimes i want to cry out and sometimes
i'm just angry
how can we live knowing
that the one who killed you can go on?
or i guess the question at hand is
how can he?
in my dream the night of the accident
you smiled at me, that much i can remember
i'll consider it your goodbye, good friend
*
seven digits dialed
the news makes my voice sound hollow
now it's 45 after and i'm crying on the bus home
this time i'm understanding my pain
i don't want to say goodbye in this lifetime
i always thought i'd have another chance
but this moment we're given is so fucking precious
that every smile you must count as your last
i can only hope, for that is all that sustains me
that you've found your place waiting for you
wherever you are, and you're not alone
*
now we've said our goodbyes
and we've told our stories
remembering you as you were, from green to gold
hearing your voices from lonely speakers
all of my stories are yet untold
the strength of your families truly overwhelms me
but my words don't help to heal their wounds
and speaking of wounds, ben, you left one just for me
a forgotten scar which makes you immortal
i'll carry it with me with your honor and pride
because when i think of you both, that's what i see
that's what i see

for jim and ben.

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