To Cope With Death Poem by Rouren Torres

To Cope With Death



She had gripped my arm as her fear trailed down her cheeks.
My pillow, soaked, as she leaned into me,
Almost swallowed whole the sob that parted her lips.
Delicately, her breath brushed my shoulder and her hair my chin.
'I don't want to die',
As if there was something I could have done laying on our bed.
My small chest ached: flat, un-rounded, and juvenile.
It was empty; the purest of desperations in her voice had clawed away at it,
Leaving plenty of space for the hopelessness to nestle in my helplessness.
My childish ignorance only supplied a 'why? '
While hers a 'because I'm scared, because I'm afraid', and a pathetic whimper
That put her older sister to shame.
With as little womanhood as I had,
I tried my best to herd the distraught lamb.
I pulled the words from somewhere deep,
Somewhere I thought them safe to keep.
'When I die... I want to be old.
I want to live, and grow old, so, so old.
I want to grow up and get a job.
I want to get married and have kids.
I want to have grandkids, and great grandchildren,
And in the end I want to be happy.
So, you don't have to be afraid.
Because you are going to grow really, really old,
And you'll be so happy you won't care about letting go.'
She shook her head.
'I still don't want to die.'
So I apologized, and like babes we cried.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: coping,death,fear,life,melancholy,memory,sisters,youth
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A memory that came to me from when I was younger.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jaishree Nair 05 May 2015

Childhood fear of death aptly envisioned. Thanks for sharing

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