Poems about Death

Two poems

Unrequited

Seconds before I died, you had told me that you loved me

-finally

I had wanted to catch your words in the air with declarations of my own, but i had lived too little

Too too little of that kind of life of love and exhilarating joy to decide in those few seconds

And the bulk that I had lived seeped out of my body in thick reeds of crimson, it wept as it felt the need to dissolve into a river to accommodate your tears

The last thought that dwelt in my mind was despair at the thought of grief that I would leave behind

The sadness that will most likely survive my bones, reassuring my love in you, but ensuring that it hurts.

We

When we die
all we will have are nostalgia,
memories,

thoughts that have moved past us
in closure
But never a present
We.

Not the people we left behind
We.
That will be our own suffering

That is,
if we ever really die.