this is tough, this being me.
i say all kinds of euphemistic things:
endure, be brave, be faithful…
a memory stirs,
i am back to missing you.
i am glad you are not suffering.
i am glad the pain is gone.
but here i am left,
wondering.
how do i carry on?
my life is like typing one-handed,
always swimming uphill
with one broken paddle, one broken pencil,
one half of one one-dollar bill.
i remember the days of our freedom
the two of us crying and laughing at once!
sipping our vodka tonics and talking like schoolgirls
till we were tipsy and high.
your kneecaps jumped up and down,
so i put you to bed,
worried that i somehow harmed
those beautiful knees.
they parted to give me birth,
but i don’t feel alive.
the sunlight changed the day you died
left me all dim and damaged inside.
now my life is like typing one-handed.
always swimming uphill
with one broken paddle,one broken pencil
and one half of one one-dollar bill.
my relief is coming, the shining day
you will return to me-free from any disease
it is our God’s promise to us!
the world will resound with our laughter,
our brothers and sisters will join in
we will all be perfect and no one will die,
not ever, no
never again.
i wont have to type one handed,
no more swimming uphill.
no broken paddles, no more broken pencils,
no need for one-half of one one-dollar bill!!!
