I Died Today

I just wonder what happens when one dies.

I am Joyce.

I am eighteen.

I died today.

My life unfolds right before me,

scene after scene,

like a nonstop movie marathon.

From the very second I was conceived

til my raw death,

I see myself

and the people who'd been a part of my journey--

family...friends...strangers.

Everybody adored me

my family, neighborhood, town.

I was intelligent, sharp,

painfully honest,

and virtuous.

I graced the church with my presence

and impressed the heavens with my religiosity.

I was practically the kind of person

everyone dreamed to be,

a candidate for sainthood.

At a young age,

I had my own timeline of dreams:

finish college with honors,

marry a doctor,

raise five or seven kids,

be a philanthropist,

change the world.

My promising career was intricately laid out.

My monumental success

had been prophesied by everybody.

I knew death.

I knew everybody dies.

I knew it could happen to anyone

at any given time.

But I was young

and I was foolish.

I never considered it to happen to me.

Not this soon.

I can still remember that night

when death disguised itself as a beautiful dream.

I never woke up.

My parents found me lifeless that morning

--and man, did they weep.

I see them.

I see how they bleed tears.

I want to reach out to them

but that's not possible.

I am dead now...

The news of my death spreads like a wildfire

and everyone grieves for me

Some retreat in revered silence.

Some console themselves in each other's arms.

They revere my name like I'm a saint

equal to St. Therese of the Child Jesus.

And each person has a story to tell:

litany of the good acts I had done

and numerous virtues they swear I have.

I wonder if their praises

can give me access to heaven...

Now that my life has ended,

I see how each piece fit with another

like a perfect puzzle.

Seemingly insignificant things

serve their own purpose:

the delays, the unheard prayers,

the tears and the yawns.

Every flaw, every success

everything

makes up the blueprint

of who I was meant to be.

It all makes sense to me now.

I am Joyce

I am eighteen

I died today.

Author's Note

I know this is quite lengthy, so if you have finished reading this, well, CONGRATULATIONS! You have surpassed the trial! ;)

Anyway, this piece is very tricky for me. I honestly don't know what to think of this poem. And I'm not saying this to fish compliments, okay? I've been trying lots of things recently and I want honest opinions on the changes of my writing styles. (?)

Thank you very much! Your reviews never go unappreciated. :x

Reviews

[Jack...]

This just blew me away. I am assuming you are writing about a fictional character...duh...but to me, as I read, she became as real as if she were standing here before me telling me her story. This was beautifully done and eerie at the same time. It gave me chills when I came to the part where she died again at the end. Blue, this is truly amazing.

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Glad you're amazed, Jack. That's very flattering. :)

[Eduardo Bautista]

actually, i dont find it hard to read at all. it flows easily. i feel the pain, the sort of post-death epiphany.
When it comes to bad things happening to people of this quality proves, for me, that life isnt exactly about reward-for-good-punishment-for-bad. there are laws governing things that apparently work indifferent to us.
honest opinion, i wish i could have written this. good job, blue!

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

I know you could have written a better one. ;) Thank you, Ed. Such lovely insights you have there.

[Sami Khalil]

An interesting death as a dream and poem...Splendid

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Thank you, Sami!! :x

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)