I saw a corpse,
It amused me,
For the people around it were shattered-
They sobbed out loud
And cried rivers,
Groaning in agony-
While the one they grieved for
Seemed peaceful and content, happy, even.
Oh, selfish world!
We cry, stricken, in spite
Of the knowledge
That death is an accepted reality.

I shall cry too,
When I am to lose someone.
But, I would not mourn their death,
Much rather, my loss.
I would not grieve their ascending
To a better place,
But their no longer being here, with me.
I would not cry for their leaving this world,
But for their leaving me alone in it.
I shall not shed a tear for their ended a existence,
But for my ended companionship.
No, I shall not mourn their last breath,
I would rejoice for their arrival
To the checkpoint,
Their destination in life’s journey.
But while rejoicing,
I shall shriek, not for any reason
Other than my selfish pain
At having an important element
Snatched away from MY life.

Mourning a death has nothing selfless about it.
For we all know we are to die
And there is nothing very painful about death,
The pain is in the lives of those dealing with one’s death,
And their tears are for themselves
And their loss,
Their own selfish pain.
But mourn we must and mourn we shall,
For it is a selfish world,
And death is a painful reality.

A painful reality I would gladly face,
When the time comes;
Surrounded by the people
I have loved and cherished,
Laughed, cried and fought with;
Every one of them crying,
Loudly and animatedly,
Telling me how much they need me and
Just how I have impacted them,
Expressing all their feelings,
Describing their favorite moments with me
And how I saved them,
For I am self absorbed enough to know I did,
And how empty they shall feel without me,
Narrating incidents of laughter and sorrow,
For all present to witness those memories.
I want to know just how they perceive me,
All the honest baggage they hid from me.
I want to devulge every minuscule fragment
Of my existence from them,
What they loved about me,
And what curled their toes in anger,
What they abhorred and what made them happy.
I wish to listen to their goodbyes
And laugh, for I shall be going to a “better place”, apparently.
I want to be told all they have to tell,
I want to explain just how much I loved their presence,
And the times I spent with them,
I also want to tell them just how
I hated their silly behavior sometimes,
And the countless times I stopped myself
From killing them with my bare hands.
I want to watch them in their ambivalence,
For they shall be smiling at the remenisence
And crying at the realization
That those memories are all they have,
For the opportunity to make more will be lost.
I want to die in
A celebration of life,
And grief of death,
And once I’m dead,
I want them all to wipe their eyes,
And walk away with smiles.
For my chapter has ended,
And move on, they must.
For just as everyone dies
The dead must be honored
By the living.
And I want to honored,
Not by being grieved over after my passing,
No, I want to die amongst tears,
But I want to live on as a happy memory,
Not one to be remembered in sadness.


One thought on “Grieve.

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