Blue Lights (Edit #2)

[Richard]

Hey UselessBlueprint,
I like what you're going for here, but I do have some suggestions. I'll go into more detail below:

I walk my dog along these same streets every day.
But today, where I always turn right, -Why not "we" instead of "I"? I feel like the dog has a significant role here.
I veer left. -Why not "he veers me left"? It would  give greater emphasis to how the dog is pulling the speaker towards remembering what happened.

We stroll past the spot
where they found Carlos last night, -My biggest issue is why did Carlos do it? If it was sudden and no one knows why, then that needs to be included some how. I almost want you to get in his head to explain it, which could be scary, but a worthwhile exercise as a poet. 
bloody, but held together --
curled up like a baby --
like the child he was. -I know others have mentioned reworking this line, so maybe combine the last two lines into "curled up like the child he was."?

When Paul’s family became ashes
and his body betrayed him,
he walked to the other side of the station -I agree with what Knot said about this image. However, I wonder if you should consider using "The other side of the station" as the title, if you explain what that means more inside the poem? The other thing to consider is that where I live railway trains have red caution lights by the tracks, so I didn't get your title right away.
and the cleaners power-washed his parts away.
But I wonder if some piece of him
still remains there
in the air
or between the stones. -I quite like the last four lines here. This is a morbid, but quite natural thought someone would have in this situation.

My dog sniffs the rails and ballast,
then lifts his leg to piss
on the ground. -I understand wanting to return to the dog image to give the poem a sense of going full circle. However, I wonder if you would consider grouping the dog stanzas together and ending on one of the suicides? It's entirely up to you, but I think it's worth thinking about.

I walk my dog along these same streets every day.
But today, where I always turn right,
I veer left.

We stroll past the spot
where they found Carlos last night,
bloody, but held together and
curled up like a baby.
Four years ago, a thousand feet north,
Paul’s body broke apart
and they washed it away.
But I wonder if some part of him
still remains there
in the air
or between the stones.

My dog sniffs the rails and ballast,
then lifts his leg to piss
on the ground.

I like what I'm seeing here and look forward to seeing where you take this piece from here.

Thanks for the read,
Richard