untitled deathbed | a poem

I knew a woman all too well

and not at all

a woman who was selfless

she devoted her life to her dead self

and I never got to know

where she had been buried

the first time


this woman called my name

as she died


when she opened her mouth

her voice tried to reveal

her body’s truth

but the words were sterile nails


she never let me in

because she presumed

that I’d drown in the depth

that had torn itself into her


deathbeds are real


her voice was destroyed

because she stopped singing

because she stopped singing

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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