Seven years (Coronach)

Word of the day: Coronach

In four days time it'll be seven long years since you passed

Waking me up at a quarter to midnight on the last Sunday of the month

To tell me you couldn't breathe and it didn't take long for you to take your final breath

And then that was it, you were dead

This is selfish, I know, but what I hated the most about your death

Besides your sudden absence from my life after having you by my side

Since the day I was born

Was the way everyone expected me to be strong

I'd just lost you and it felt like my world was collapsing around me

And people told me that I would get through it because

I'd had that final day with you, unlike grandkids who, by choice,

Had moved to countries that were oceans away from you

And I looked at that wooden casket you were in, closed, so I never had to see

What you looked like when you were no longer alive

And later, you were smoke and ashes, dust

Surrounded by people, I watched you go, never having felt so alone in my life

And now, seven long years later, I still want you here

Talk to the photograph we have of you in the living room

I tell you things and sometimes, let myself cry

Whisper that I wish I could join you in the afterlife

Red, white and rose

Word of the day: Oenology

Reds fill my stomach too quickly

Sitting there, heavy

Staining glass and lips

Weighing my heart down

I focus on my breath

Inhale and exhale

Force myself to remain in the present

Whites are the perfect buzz

Clean going down my throat

Everything looks so surreal

Like I'm surrounded by

Fairy lights and fireflies

In those moments the world

Is just so fucking beautiful

A rare treat, a rose is

Bubbles bursting against my tongue

A little dance of joy

Merriment, good things

Being transported to a different life

For a short while

Sitting on a beach

Sharing a bottle with

Someone I love

freak

skin on skin

naked

no longer reminding me of

raw fish

repulsive

an improvement

perhaps

my brain has surrendered

to the endless questions from

friends and first dates

never been in a relationship

body count, zero?

how and why?

i let you touch me

and pretend it feels good because

the panic that used to set in with

intimacy

has now been replaced by

indifference

but you don't need to know that

just give me what i need

so people will stop looking at me

like i'm a freak

keloid

never the smartest

when it came to the sciences

i only recently learnt about keloids

"so basically your brain keeps signaling that

scar tissue needs to be made long after

the wound has healed"

the layers that keep forming around my heart

ever since you threw it on the ground

stomped on it like it was a rubber toy

layers of tissue, skin, whatever it is

protecting me from the hurt that can so

easily be caused

what are they called?

single pringle

it hit me, when i least expected it,

that it was the oldest -my grandmother-

and the youngest -myself-

who were without partners

she lost her husband years ago

and perhaps thought of him often with a fondness

that didn't surface until after he had passed

everyone else - dating, about to be married

just married, married for a while -

and beyond our little group

most seemed to have found someone

the woman carrying a baby, waiting for her husband

to return from a shop with a toy

the young man reaching for the young girl's hand

blushing slightly

the elderly couple, seated on a bench

resting before the day's activities resume

the man telling his wife to hurry

before the train leaves

everyone had met someone they had

fallen in love with, found a sense of

compatibility with, had a child with

everyone had met someone they had shaped their lives around

accommodating new needs and displays of affection

and there i was

alone

and it hit me that i had never had this

despite being at the very end of

marriageable age

i had never had someone to love and care for

worry about, say a silent prayer for

even though i didn't even believe in the power of it

i had never known what someone's favourite dish was and

learned to perfect it

or instantly know what to get them for a birthday

to seek their warmth when i wake up in the middle of the night

the life i had trudged through

had given me joy and happiness

good memories

and bad

regrets and tears and grief

so many different types of love

but it had never given me this one thing

everyone else seemed to get

sometimes multiple times

in a lifetime

So unfair

You get to fix yourself

And I don't

But then again,

You never thought I needed fixing

Because the heaviness in my voice

Escaped your ears

The tears I fought back

Went unnoticed

When I could barely get a word out

You filled the silence with nonsense

"You're okay"

"You're okay"

"You're okay"

You kept saying

Even when I screamed

"I'm not"

"I'm not"

"I'm not"