The living and the dead

I was used to seeing you around, but now you remain, not a body, only a ghost.

Now you linger, accompanying me through the land of the living, haunting me with threats that you’re never leaving. But never coming back as well.

You are gone, but I am not relieved, your absence torments me with images of what was, and what shouldn’t be relived.

Your absence, I will cherish it, keep it next to me, as a reminder before it becomes a memory:

on which turn not to take,

what moves were mistakes

to keep going,
walk ahead,
move alongside the living and the dead

to have the same respect for life and what’s long lost its breath

to keep an eye on what’s alive,
and at the same time

tend to my past on her death bed

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