It’s like death in a way

in a way that there is nothing
but loose ends
I’d be living, still me
extending a limb to reach for
something in the cupboard
and see one in the corner of my eye
I’d find one
pouring out from the granola
the start of something
left abandoned
I’d be vacuuming the rug
when another would
wrap about the filter
to block the suction
I seem to be collecting them
The ideas you ripped
yourself from
like death in a way
but over and over and over
in every word

It’s like death in a way
one in which I could not plead with
One that was persuaded by
the whispers of failing hearts,
already hopeless and decayed
A death whose
pain was hidden under the
ground, a fresh mound of
patted dirt, lest I grab a limb
Death intended to help
me live, a sacrifice
I did not want or choose
Like death in a way
because it’s open
to interpretation
be the subject of
books art song
an elective in college
the way we talk about
what just is
can kill

It’s like death in a way
And I’ve been named guilty
for the purpose it serves all
But it’s only the death
of truth
for parable
Simple.
like you tell a child
hoping she might not
question but fear the villain
hoping she may avert her eyes
to avoid living, it’s like
death in a way