Haunted

It was not the finality of death but that which lingered like a mist as I gave of my self, to lend life beyond life’s last last breath.
Heart beneath chest, beating only for these hands of flesh.

For every count of one hundred, breathe twice.
Count again. Don’t stop.

You.
Must.
Not.
Stop.

Go. Faster than two per second.

(Slower than immortality)

But it was only being borrowed

As blood slowed

And time cooled.

It was not the finality of death but that which lingered like a mist, before slowly slipping away.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is very inventive writing, the way you make your msg interactive, as if you're instructing the reader how to get thru those moments when someone "gone" is haunting. I have a best friend who died 5 years ago & he still visits me all the time. Now that I'm old & my friends are losing their husbands right & left, I notice most want to hold on to their lifetime partners. Why should we accept that death is final? Who made that rule? The best writing is thought-provoking like this! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Lea Sheryn]

Profoundly wonderful. Loved it!

[Neville]

Once started, I found it so compelling, it was impossible to stop until the very end.... Your fine poem, I mean, life is something else, yet precious..... Neville

[Coyote Poetry]

I saw many die in my lifetime. Most in hospitals with controlled medicine. I don't know. I would prefer a fast death. Interesting topic dear Elle. No-one had the real answer. Thank you for sharing the amazing words an your thoughts.
Coyote

[jacob erin-cilberto]

life is but a borrowed thing...we lease our breaths until the contract runs out...and we hope that physical death is not the finality...especially when the time comes that it is slipping away.
it seems that many worry about immortality only when the time comes to graduate into it.
like this one a lot...especially the formatting on the page...adds to the strength of it.
j.