Night Blues

I sometimes like to imagine that I was dead
Just to wonder if anyone would truly care
Will my father finally say that he was proud of me?
Will my mother hold my cold lifeless body and weep?
All the neighbours and relatives would gather around and sigh,
"Oh, she died so young, it's truly a shame
She was so smart and intelligent with whole life ahead of her."
Words, almost as sweet as honey, having little truth in them, words they would have never said to my face, but like always, the dead get a little more grace.

I like to imagine my funeral
How many of my friends would be at the wake?
And how many would cry and how many would truly grieve?
And I can see, their lives without me
Moving on like I had never existed.
Maybe on some days they will remember,
"Oh yes, she was one of my dearest friends, hope she is happy in heaven."
And then get on with washing the dishes, or folding clothes and doing laundry.

I know these thoughts stem from narcissism
But everything I loved about myself is lost
So here lies an empty shell, wallowing in self pity, imagining that I am loved by others through the expression of grief.

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

An amazing write very well executed

[emmajoygreen]

Oh my, oh dear! Your words show great thought and the ability to write those thoughts out for self and the world to read!

But, but, but.. why not live what you can control for much of the time: LIFE!

What we possess, have, can enjoy is life: the most precious gift, enjoying every single second of it. Please give yourself the chance to bathe in and absorb it. Please.