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.