When I lost you I suddenly understood
That I only found out who you were, then
And there, having turned my back on that room
Where your urn stood.
I looked back at you, in my memory,
My body held by your lap, the smell
Of cigarettes on your skin, your face,
Roughly shaven, alcohol, beverage and
Perfume, you were heavy, you lingered,
I could never rest.
You loved my soft cheeks. Not just mine.
It sounds so bad. You tried to do good.
Be good. I had been so blind to the demons
Underneath your skin, the tumorous forces
Boiling inside of your mind.
I refused to meet you.
For once, my heart had been in the
Right place. I can’t explain why.
It sounds absurd.
Nothing had ever felt stronger,
I did what my body told me to do.
What did your death communicate to me?
What made my body react the way it did?
Taking that step away from you. Forever.
I made it last that long.
And you ached
And longed for me.
Was it real? What did you want?
I see that pattern repeated. I see it repeated.
The tormentors disguised with masks of care
Reaching out every single one of their fingers
To grab the throat of forgiveness, to get that
Concentrate of absolution, out of my body,
My childlike mouth that didn’t find words
For the actions of her body, my body,
That saved me in the end after all,
Rescuing itself from lifelong lies,
Holding on to its own truth, finally,
And stepping away from a chaos that
Had never been mine.