Mask by Heather Dewey-Hagborg, created using discarded DNA From chewing Gum and cigarette butts

I am afraid to die before you
because I fear that after death there would be no you
that after I take my last and final breath
everything you have loved about me
would be buried six-feet under
and that it would not take long before you’d have me forgotten

I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able see our children grow
or that I’d live not even long enough to see whether my children are yours too
I’m afraid how it would be to you
if I wouldn’t be there to wipe your tears away
as you weep above the wooden bed where as a corpse I lay

I’m afraid to die after you
because I fear that losing you would just equal to that as of dying
that every life I had in me
would be taken with you down six-feet under

I’m afraid that I wouldn’t have you to talk with once our children has grown
or that you’d live not long enough to see if yours were mine too
I’m afraid of how I would be
if you wouldn’t be there to wipe my tears away
as I weep days, weeks, months, or even years after as when I had last seen that pale, yet undeniably beautiful, face of yours

I am afraid of not having to live at all during you
not being able to feel the warmth of your touch
or to hear the words that’d escape those pink luscious lips of yours

I am afraid of what could have been
if I was destined to live a decade or more before or after you
I am afraid that no one then
would ever level to you, that lovely person you are

and many would find it silly – because they say those fears are just that, fears
but no one would ever understand that they are the fears which I would always be afraid of.

—

Submitted to ArtParasites by Twig Cyla Bacal

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