That familiar, tight feeling wells up in my throat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, I think.

But I can’t help but cry for someone that I didn’t even know. Through her writing, I got to see her creative, beautiful, and unique heart. She will always be loved, and she will never be forgotten.

The Third Chair gets heard: no trumpet has ever sang as loudly and brilliantly as this poem does.

I didn’t know you Jesi, but I’ll miss you.