We make no reason fit
the means or mode or minute
that eased the load of soul
from here to there. “Senseless...”
we say, afraid our own death
lurks alongside. Afraid
we lack courage to face such choice
alone. Did you find the welcoming
you lacked in life? Did everyone
seem happy to see you, despite
your selfish act? Is your life better
now that your dead?
Here, even those who do
not miss you, per se,
notice you are gone.
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