nathanael.ink

whenever I write anything
I almost always imagine how it will read
when I have been dead
for several months at least
and a loved one
is fishing for some pieces of me
while in the kitchen
or at the dinner table
or on their bedside
or wherever their phone
or book or tablet might be
whatever it is they pick up
looking for me
I wonder
how then it will read
to hear that I am happy
today
regardless of what I will inevitably face

will it console you to hear
that even if a bomb drops on me in the morning
I will still have told my entire story
to the entire world
and everyone heard it
or at least
everyone I wanted to hear it
and
I think
that really must be
all that could mean anything

to be seen
by those we love
and to see
ourselves
as loved

and I wonder
how it will be for you to read
that I know you loved me
and I always felt it despite whatever distance

and I hope that you can still hear
that I did love you
even when I stopped saying it

because I was afraid
that saying it again would feel like a chain
around your throat with your hair caught in it
and all
I ever
wanted

was to see you so empowered
to love the entire world
if you so desire
but

you got held up
holding up in our room…
and everyday I was so worried
what I might see when I got home

I will never be glad about your leaving
but I am glad
that you stayed alive
that you survived
somehow
and perhaps
survived even longer than I will
and perhaps
loved even more of the world than I could