The Time It Takes To Drown

Telling more people doesn’t dilute pain nor truth,
only mystifies it. How do I feel. How do you want me to feel,
and why are you never satisfied with my answer?
The busyness of a peaceful death adjusts to the living’s schedule.
The ongoing finality of living. What I’d give for one restful day
of oblivion. We leave instructions, but tire of holding space
for those who have left. Maybe after I’ve gone you’ll commit
to loving me like I asked.