After to die...
I try to get used to how
I will feel after
You die.
I picture eyes
Raising to eyebrows,
Knees sinking to toes.
I imagine locking myself
In my room,
Days without food.
Knocks on the door
Stifled from the
Pillow over my head.
I would try to understand
The relief you would feel,
Try to remember how I
Have also felt the same way.
I would try to twist it,
Blame it on myself, saying
If only, what if,
Hoping through torture
I would find answers
And maybe that would
Bring you back.
Pamela
Copyright 2003