truth?

isn't it coincidental
that you often laid here
immersed in the bleeding skyline
as you sliced your wrists
imitating the scarlet of the sun?

is it a coincidence
that the sky gushed coal
reflecting your state of mind
while i reread this very letter
over, and over again?

was it a coincidence
that every inky night sky
leaked her anguish into your mind
spilling it onto this very letter
when i thought you were sound asleep?

it is no coincidence
that the sky could replenish her smile
put rest to her torment of night
which you tried to imitate
but all of a sudden, you couldn't?

you have been gone a year now
the lost truth is alive in my hands
your own self atomic bomb
triggered into the ruthless night
though it was no coincidence?