Between Bruises & Blooms

He was the last one
to leave her alive.

That fact
would rot inside him
long after the blood dried.

He told her to hide.
He told her he would come back.

And he did.

Just too late.

So when everyone else froze,
when grief turned the whole world
silent,

he stepped forward.

Because sometimes leadership
is not courage.

Sometimes it is simply
being the one
willing to carry the nightmare
so no one else has to.

And sometimes
the bullet
is not the cruelest part.

Sometimes it is surviving
afterward.