Member Poem

We used to be friends,

My life and I.

I think it was almost love,

Real and benign.

For a large portion of two decades,

This was not a facade.

But some relationships crumble,

At the face of death,

As did I --- breaking every rule,

I set up for life itself.

Death looked bright and full of hope

Desperate, I bought a sturdy rope.

The shaking stopped soon,

The weight dipping down.

A tall blackness sheathed me,

A quiet pain bequeathed to me...

But Death knew me well.

And knew I’d make it out---

Once again.

Breath filled my lungs,

Blood throbbing against my forehead,

I collapsed, but didn’t die.

They pulled me up, they said I’d live.

They asked me to hold on,

And begged me to forgive.

Perhaps I had always known,

I would heed their advice;

That I would rebuild my life and outlive---

the broken stems of heartbreak, the slow torture of the world,

The promise of pain, I thought I knew death well.

But Death had known me better.