I've never experienced anybody I loved die. I don't know how to handle that.
You have a choice. You don't have to leave. Please don't take your life away. I'm begging you, don't make yourself the first person that I grieve.
I've never been to funeral and I don't know the etiquette. Am I allowed to scream from the church benches or must I wait for when they lower you in a casket and the first shovel of dirt is thrown? Am I allowed to reach for your hand at the viewing? You'll never touch me back again. You'll never feel me again. Do the people who loved you most cry inconsolably? Or do they sit catatonically with red lined eyes for they've already cried out half their body's water weight? Dissociate in disbelief that you cease to exist? Where is my place in these options?
I don't own any black, don't make me go out and buy a dress. I'll need to purchase a tube of waterproof mascara, I haven't had one since I went swimming last summer. You love swimming. You loved swimming? Oh what's the point of even wearing it if my hands will have rubbed it off my raw and puffy face before I even arrive.
If you killed yourself, would your body even be presentable enough for a viewing? Would the reasons be put in the town newspaper or shall I just imagine all the possibilities myself? You never wanted to tell them to me. It's hard to help fight in a battle against monsters I can't even see.
Don't be the first person I love to leave me. I won't be able to handle it when there was a possibility of prevention.
YOU ARE READING
Metamorphosis
Poetry"You do not cease to exist just because I wish you to." Started: 4/3/20 Finished: 8/20/20 My 6th poetry book.
