“In anticipation of your death”

 

 

“In anticipation of your death”

In anticipation of your death,

I wanted you to know,

that we wasted so much time.

That, we barely scraped the surface of truth between us.

So much is left unsaid.

So much won’t be said.

The majority of this was done out of psychological survival.

As your weapons grade narcissism,

only allowed for one person to speak at a time.

You were always this person.

In anticipation of your death,

I rejoice at the notion, that your gravity will no longer influence my orbit.

Mistakes were made,

people hurt.

Squandered days and nights,

nothing put right.

The truth between us:

you took me for granted, and I enabled that in you.

I thread the needle of spite, with a spool of gradual disappointments.

I will sew the seams of our straitjacket life,

and desperately donate it to charity.

Hopefully, it gets caught in a wayward dumpster and tears beyond repair.

Once it’s gone, I will breathe again.

Once you are gone, I will breathe again.

“Packed Lunch”

Image courtesy of L. Alvarado

“Packed Lunch”

Cherry tomatoes, celery.

Mini-carrots, stringy cheese.

Butter crackers, square Cheez-Its.

snack-sized baggies, so it fits.

Raspberry juice box, flexi straw,

ice pack cooling, as it thaws.

My day brings many, many things,

while you’re at school, I’m in meetings.

The only way I get to be,

there for you, is when you eat.

So, look at each and every piece,

and know I put my love in between.

When I make your lunch for you,

I’m hoping your day goes smooth.

We’ll meet up later,

to hash it out.

And you’ll tell me,

what to keep out.

And when I go to make it new,

I’ll remember the revised menu.