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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #2086927
This is one of many poems I wrote after my husband died.

Who's Deader - You or Me?

People say you were dead

When I watched that last breath.

Of course, we say, while deep inside,

We know something else

But dare not speak it.

We hardly know what to say -

Because what we know is so invisible

As you are now. (Or so they say)

Yes, I'm still walking,

Breathing, swallowing,

My pulse throbbing steadily

While you are still, cold,

Sand in a bottle.

You can't laugh at my dumb jokes

Or get angry at my impatience.

What I would give for

A pungent disagreement with

A New York curse or two.

But then those moments

Made you sicker, I fear

And I'm sorry.

Regret rises in me

Like a black sunrise,

Shedding darkness on the truth

And burying who I really am.

Have I plastered that emotion

On my heart

Like a badge of honor?

As if I should be praised,

While I make a wilted plea

To some generic, unemployed God:

Give me another chance!

I hear you chuckle at all this drama;

So alive, that laugh.

Who's deader - you or me?

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