the peacefully departed

She hugs your urn
like your spirit is still in it
whispers sweet nothings
about poetry and funeral parlours

I’m not morbid enough
to pick you up and try and find
your ghost in the ceramic casing
of your ashes

And poetry
pretty, anonymous poetry
is meaningless in times like these

If there is poetry in your passing
it’s that you died peacefully
without pain
we should all be so lucky
to sleep through the fear
of the Reaper’s footsteps
making her way to our door

I don’t think I’ll be so fortunate
to live long enough to find
peace in dreamless sleep

I haven’t lived a peaceful life
and every burnt bridge behind me
tells a different story than the one
I’ll want to spin at the end of my days

I hope no one hugs my ashes
when the smoke has cleared
and the fire has gone from my eyes

I don’t want to end up on a bookshelf
for sad eyes to whisper memories onto
in the middle of the night when they think
no one is watching

I hope I die the way I’ve lived

stupidly

And my ashes are scattered to the wind
so I can be free in a way
I’ve never been in life

…

She hugs your urn
like your spirit is still in it
whispers sweet nothings
about poetry and funeral parlours

And I’m glad I’m not her
holding onto faded breaths
whispering sweet nothings
wishing I’d held your corpse
longer after you died
kept you warm in the darkness
of departing
as though any of it mattered

If I know nothing else
it’s that love is for the living
and you’re now too far gone
to feel it

© Indie Adams 2015