This girl – eep! – she is way more everything than I’ll ever be. And I’m 100% okay with that.
On the Occasion of My Death
- Originally posted on a 6s community March 1, 2011 at 10:14am
On the occasion of my death, I will kill in black silk, and you will wonder how so dead a body could look so very alive.
On the occasion of my death, I will sit in back of the mourners and note the weeping, the wailing, the gnashing of teeth; I will discern between phoenix tears and crocodile tears, and you will feel my presence bearing down on you for inspection.
On the occasion of my death, you will wax religious, forgetting my sins and remembering me as the saint I am not, and you all will guess who plays the bigger fraud.
On the occasion of my death, you will lose the train of thought even as it hits its apex, so lost you will be in the unread words of my will, and you will smile despite yourself at the thought of my “will,” that thing you could not pardon in my life which now subdues you in my death.
On the occasion of my death, I will make rounds at the cemetery, slipping a single cold finger across your cheek or, perhaps, down the back of your arm, and you will wish to flee your griever’s prison.
On the occasion of my death you will arrive too late to the understanding that you might have honored the occasion of my life, that you have no more time to repair our brokenness, that you have no hope any more.