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Writer's pictureZuogwi Earl Reeves

The Demise

to Bernice

I remember when I was done.

I decided it was the last time I would pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

I decided to let that dream die. It had been 6 years without you and almost 4 with you.

That love we shared was on life support when I realized who I was.

Somehow the love I had for you was wrapped around the depression I had been in.

I promise myself never to have a form of regression.

Your love triggered serious forms of sadness. So this is where we are.

At the morgue. I used a sanitized sword to make sure I got out all the dead pieces so there would not be an infection.

Because even though this is dead there is still something left in me.

And by me is so important that I want to breathe.

I want to put space in there for someone else.

I want to triage that surgically cut piece.

So as I sit back and write this reflection for the public service I want to have for you.

I swear the eulogy will all be good things.

All the smiles we shared, the late-night conversations.

But I would be resolved to say this out loud go find peace.

cause That’s the journey I’m on

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