to just how small you were but how
big the hole was that you left behind
When he died,
I wonder if he drifted from room to room.
His dad buys a cake for what would have been
his fifteenth birthday. I think about
reading every tombstone in the city
until I find where they planted him.
The sunset was so beautiful the night
he left. You lost fifteen pounds.
Maybe you got smaller because
the guilt was eating you away.
You were home when he stained
the carpet but you couldn’t stop him.
It was the winter you would hibernate
like a bear. No one blames you
for staying in bed that year.
Since you slept through the sound
of a bullet going through drywall/skull
now you don’t sleep at all.
When you close your eyes
you can still see how white/red it was.
You don’t even want to blink anymore.
You ended up in a morgue, desperate
trying to get that image out of your head.
You replace his anguished face with
the well-rested one. He is so calm.
He does not blame you. You hope
god is real for his sake. Or not even god,
just heaven. Heaven is a place filled with
pugs and kittens and he’s
finally happy here. He’s finally happy.
Another holiday went by without you. I do hope that
there was one great firework show up there.
art: caitlin peck
should i die before i wake
Don’t you dare cremate me. Don’t you dare
take who I was and
reduce it to ashes. To be burned alive
is the worst ache one can ever know and
I don’t fancy it after death either.
I have always, always, always wanted to be buried
without a casket.
Place me back in the ground,
cover me in soil. I want to be planted.
And when you come to visit
bouquets of cut flowers.
Bring seeds, bring bulbs.
I want to bloom.
The weatherman said it was going to rain but he didn’t mention
when it would let up. It’s been raining for years.
I keep telling myself I’m not allowed to be this downpour,
all the time. It doesn’t help.
I don’t want to be brave today. I don’t
want to do the work today. I don’t want to do the work today. I don’t want
to do the work today. I don't want to.
Now the only thing worth living for is the sunset. I’m letting things
pile up instead of taking care of them. I want to see just
how high I can get.
This is the terrible precipice I’ve been peering over.
Everyone/ no one is worried for me.
If I fall on them,
I will be so heavy. And what is it if it isn’t
everyone you take with you on the way down?
I thought I would fall right into the sunshine. I thought I’d be
covered in it.
Oh my god I can’t die yet,
my room isn’t clean.
Look, I brushed my hair.
I got dressed.
See, I'm better now. See?