The Day I Died Part 1 Poem by Annie Cordelia Adams

the day i died, i was eighteen
and that day i wrote a song but it is now lost
i was in the car on the hill waiting for the chill
of winter and frosty windows.
i never realized that,
and i never noticed how lucky i was,
until i died and awoke as a ghost.
i was in the car on the hill,
and in a sudden scream, i looked deep
into the heart of the long, empty road,
and at the end, i knew there was desert,
and past that, if i kept going, the sea.
but i should have not screamed, for you see,
with that wild scream, i lost my soul it would seem,
because i haven't felt a single knife stab since then.
i think i would rather the lonely nights
naked in my room after a shower,
when the cold air seeped under the door,
and tears dripped to my knees
while i hugged them for dear life.
then, i was dying, not dead
and to be dead is unchangeable, i think.