When You Died

It was as if we were floating;
jumping from tree to tree,
our heads brushing the clouds delicately,
when suddenly
a twig snapped.
The branch broke
and all of our other senses awoke,
but they weren't enough to keep us from falling.
You went down first,
and I couldn't think of anything worse,
but then I felt the scrapes and bruises from the passing trees.
My grasps and fumblings were not helping anything.
The clouds, so innocent, died from view,
overcome by visions of a deathly hue,
and that is the moment I knew
that when you died,
I would hit the bottom and die, too.