If it's by choice
There is no mercy.
They'll split your chest
And cut apart your heart,
Pull out and read your guts;
Everything they look for is corruption.
A kinder method is
From sudden going.
The factory's moving to another town,
Your section's shutting down.
As long as you don't want to,
They will miss you
While they clear your things away.
Any leaving's better
than the absence of leaving
Where you are sitting there,
Your motions only gestures
Breathing air.
Every wish they have
Comes down to mercy:
Please just let you go.
They'd put a pillow to your face
If they could do it
And celebrate your passing
With a cheer.
Wow, this stings and snarls and whispers terrible, gorgeous poety things.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me think of my mom's final days...
ReplyDeleteAye with cheer. A party every time I stay where I am not wanted. a party because it is thought I will be outlived. I will leave but on my own terms.
ReplyDeletehello, i'm here from mr walking man's fine blog. this is an interesting poem with an interesting perspective. leaving is often perceived as a betrayal of some kind. the more abrupt, the more unkind, it seems, even when leaving's best for everyone involved.
ReplyDeletethis reminded me of my long established thought that something worse than being alone is being with someone and being alone. we begin again, but boy it can be scary.
my mother died a month ago and she left with all the grace and all the love she could carry with her and leave with us.
love
kj