It’s a relief attending
your funeral. Part of me
is happy you’re gone.
So, then why aren’t you
here, telling me how
disappointed you are,
your arms crossed
over your heart
attending your own wake
and wearing this look on
your face that says it’s not
alright? The truth is
I’m not sure I know
what it means to be
well anymore. So, maybe
I’m defying you in death
because I need to feel
like I’m still here.