Losing Melissa Poem by R.Benjamin Abate

She was twenty-five
When she died-

Every summer
Night seems the
Same until you
Really miss someone

I spent many nights
In Indiana staying
Up late with her
Thinking about it all

Melissa was
Curious about
The stars
Always looking up

Listening to the
Crackle of the
The wood burning
During bonfires

The emptiness of the sky
How it lit up with
Mysterious crystals

To give us some kind
Of hope in a world
Full of slow decay

She left like
A comet
In & then out of view

But now she's wrapped
In warm nebulas
Piercing the dark
With bright light