An Awkward Collection Of Poems About Death #3

 

The thing about loss
Is that it didn’t hit me
When it happened.
I didn’t feel loss.
Not when I got the call.
Not when I attended our last party together
Everyone wearing black.
Her favourite colour.
Not when there were two bodies
and only one person
that last time I saw her.
Pale.
No, I didn’t feel loss.
I felt everyone else’s loss
And made it my own.
A vacancy inside me
Filled with pain
not of my own doing.
And that made it worse.

It was three days later
I was checking my phone
And I didn’t see her name
Pop up at the crank of dawn.
She wasn’t on my recents
Only recently passed.
The vacancy started to fill up
With the deafening sound of absence.

A week later I was at a book store
I found a book with chapters named
Only in odd numbers.
She was an odd little one.
She would have liked it.
I almost bought the book for her.

Thirty one days later
That movie she wanted to see
Came out.
I went alone.

It’s just one never-ending monotone.
Sometimes you forget she’s gone.
She’s still there, you know.
Writing, eating, breathing.
Am I lying to myself or is time lying to me?
And my ears pick up the monotone again.
A frustration.
Of so much to say
But when you turn the recorder on
You realise you have nothing to record.
Succumb to the monotone.

A year and a half later
I shift to a new city
Unloading the pieces of my life.
I find a stone.
Our hike up the mountain.
When she told me
She’d move mountains for me.
And suddenly I feel selfish.
Because I had not thought of her
For a year.

The vacancy never really gets filled.
The pain just numbs until
You trick yourself into believing
You are as you were.
Whole.
Without loss.
With nothing to find.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking.

An Awkward Collection Of Poems About Death #1

Heart rate increases
She slurries her sentences
Feels weak in the knees
Eyes dilate
She sees him like it’s the first time
He’s beautiful
She knows
In that moment
She knows she’s always loved him
Pulse is out of control
Her entire body melts
And she thinks
“Finally.”
Across the country, he gets a phone call from a mutual friend.
Her funeral is in three days. It’s best if he doesn’t attend. She needs peace in death.