Two Tears

/13/

Others would never know they'd been together. On the same day, yes, but they'd been washed to different places. Picked up by different people. Their obituaries in different newspapers. Their bones in different cemeteries.

And it didn't matter. They'd failed at what they'd set out to do. They'd long since set themselves up to fail and this was the way of relieving them.

But the scars continued to cut, even without them.

Whispers that, if only they'd noticed, they could have saved them. If only they'd done this, or hadn't done that…

That blade would never stop.

Nor the tears they couldn't accept, shed for them.