Bedtime Shocks | A Poem | Stop the Show

Your death poured itself into me.

It started in the heart.

All the way into my stomach

And I jumped up.

Crouching on my knees.

I burst.

Your death could not be contained.

Could not be held in my body.

It travelled through my blood and bones,

Into every single fingertip.

There were no words.

Just sounds, unheard of.

I lost you infinitely.

I integrate you.

There are men who look like you.

Move like you.

Wear the same type of clothes.

The ones that you wore in your coffin,

Your coffin – I can’t believe these words –

When I saw you for the last time,

When I said goodbye,

The ones you wore for your cremation.

They were picked for you.

You always wore them.

In life.

And they still smelled like you.

I smell you still.

I think you’re close.

I put your shirts on and feel your skin.

I watch a candle flicker and see your eyes light up.

Why would you do this?

And I put your rucksack on my back as if I were carrying you.

And I do, you know.

There is no remedy but to go on living

And loving you infinitely.

Porträt von Friederike Maria Beer” by Egon Schiele (1890-1918)

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