Praemonēre

A black net over my pallid face
Dirty tears that look like crocodiles
I’m no good at public emotion.
A crying baby doll.

Black velvet gloves on my red hands
Fingernails bitten short
So they don’t remind me
Of dirt that will be beneath yours.

You look so smart.
Dressed in clothes that
You wouldn’t ever let ME dress you in
You were right. You do look stupid.

People grasp my hand and smile
As if smiles make it stop hurting.
People are more idiotic
Than I first speculated.

I don’t feel very much.
But that isn’t unusual for me.
The underskirt I’m wearing itches.
My shoes pinch.

You do look somewhat handsome.
Though your skin’s greyer
Than what I remember.
And you don’t look particularly happy.

You left me alone without,
Even caring to hold on.
You’re a bastard.
I couldn’t care less what you do now.

I stand with my modest dress
A person I’ve never been
Crying, formal, polite.
All the opposite of what makes me.

And I look at you all cushioned.
The wind slaps me.
And the lid shuts.
They lower you.

I hope they drop you and it hurts.
I hope you hurt as much as I hurt.
I drop the plastic rose on the casket.
How very sentimental of me.

Your good and dead and buried now.
The drinks flow.
You’re dead. I’m already over it.
You left me after all.

I’m lying in bed. More drunk than
I’ve ever been before.
I don’t care.
I feel like throwing up.

I look at your indent and
Your blue corpse lies next to me.
I scream at you.
But your content smile is all I receive.

I hate you.
I hate me for letting you die.
I reach out for your corpse hands.
I’m sorry this is my fault.

Red hands touch your white ones
You’d been dying for years. I just helped it.
Tears streaming as I sleep.
It’s my fault. I didn’t take it seriously enough.

I wake in a room that feels familiar.
I hear breathing.
Teenage lovers sharing one bed.
It wasn’t real.

It was just a dream. Just
A dream. You’re just ill.
You’ll get better one day.
It’s not forever right?

I move your long hair off your face.
You’ve been bleeding again.
Then I sleep and I wake up.
And I forget to stop taking you for granted.