A Fine Line between Living and Death
You do not exist anymore
You are absolutely nothing
Unconscious, intangible, not there.
You exist in my mind,
You live on through that funny anecdote
Or recipe, your legacy, our memory.
You are my tragic backstory,
The key to solving why I am the way I am
What you made me when you stopped being.
Therapy is bullshit.
You are watching over me
Maybe religiously speaking
Or speaking from anyone who doesn’t know what to say-
I don’t blame them.
Are you there?
But what about, a new thought
You are here
Here in the morals you taught me,
that mould the way I understand people.
Here in the love you gave me in abundance
and taught me I deserved.
Here in my children,
raised with the template you drew
You can’t answer, but I’m speaking
I learnt my words from you.