Death Becomes Her Tool

Ode to the narcissist using a loved one’s passing as leverage.

Photo by Taisiia Stupak on Unsplash

had enough space to lose sight
had enough daylight to forget why
i had to say goodbye
then someone died
but do i get to cry

defensive mode
posturing to fight
but i didn’t start the fire
i never loaded the guns

do i gaslight myself
am i stained by the shame and blame
you poured on me like gasoline
you lit the matches
you burned me down

i would still be at peace
in my Buddha phase
sending you love and warm energy
i learned a new kind of love
free of need
for those that haven’t cared much about me

you shook my stability
but you won’t take my peace
hard earned serenity
i fell into the deep
because of you
i know how to die
who would know if i survive