Death Becomes Me

You’re within me Talking, stalking In the guise of a false memory Arbiter of what is and is not A cloaked and shadowed form Whom I had hoped to forget Feebly I had prayed that I could live in peace But your ghostly spectre is haunting Taunting with no surcease Virulently cawing ‘why?’ and ‘how could this be?’ I can’t answer And then - again - I see you die die, inside of me Like a fire lit too soon In an inhospitable domain Fate, it seems, had already declared your doom. Fate. As though I were vindicated of agency As though I were not driven by others’ fear and hate Fear. Of what could be Of the relief if you were to just disappear Alone. I, the adjudicator Fear to leave my home False dawn For home offers no such sanctuary from your Memory I so privately mourn Virulently cawing ‘why?’ and ‘how could this be’ You can’t answer I can’t answer And then -again - I see you die, Die, inside of me. Rebecca .A. Huxley