(no subject)

Feb 28, 2007 17:10

i stare at the body while everyone else cries. my hand is still on the arm, but this isn't her arm anymore, this is an arm and that is a piano and outside there are rocks and she is somewhere else or gone, i don't know which and i suppose i never will. my mother cries and kisses the cheek and it seems absurd to me, but my face doesn't show it because it is slack and numb. the mouth hangs open and i can see into it and it is grotesque, rotted holes where rotted teeth used to be, everything will rot now, i am rotting, i will die, and i wish i could talk to her about it because i know she would have something brilliant to say but she is somewhere else or gone, i don't know wich and i suppose i never will. i am suddenly overwhelmed with contempt for this shell that used to house her, that burdened her for so long and i recoil, my hand snaps back to the rest of me and i resist the urge to spit on it. this is conficted, of course, by my urge to bathe in her slowly thickening blood and build a monument with the drained body impaled at the top because these shells are all we have, this is all i have left of her and something is better than nothing? but it will burn just as she wanted, it will turn to ash and they will run a magnet through the remains to remove any of the metal from the heart's accessories. the funeral director comes and i am the only one that loved her remaining in the room as they switch the body from bed to gourney. the head clumsily drops to the side and the body is jarred when they place the body down and finally cover up the body with a sheet and wheel out the body and i think good, be gone, she's better off without you.
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