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20 Year Reunion

Dead.
All of my worries dissipated
amid the weeping and wails
and I smiled.
Dead at last.
Gone.
Dead men can’t feel envy.

Such a beautiful graveside service
for such a sick mind.
The last time I saw him,
twenty years ago,
he was still holding on
after everyone else had
moved on.
That’s not devotion.
That’s selfish obsession.
But on receiving word
of that day that he
drowned himself in the lake,
I rushed home
to sweep her off her feet
and take her to California.

Couldn’t find her at the funeral.
I didn’t blame her.
Who would want to attend the service
of such a madman?
But he is
dead!
All of her cares evaporated
amid the atrocity of triangles
and now she can breathe.
We can breathe.
We can love.
Dead at last.
Dead men can’t make threats.

Such a beautiful girl
for such a horrible life.
Last time I saw her,
she was sheet clad
and crying.
Why did I ever go?
Why didn’t I listen?

Didn’t find her at her old house,
but it’s been twenty years.
I was going to pay her a visit, and…

God.

The madness doesn’t stop at death.

Such a beautiful gravestone.
Her favorite color,
black.
And it had to have the Stones logo.
Her name looks good
engraved in granite.

But the gravestone belonging to
the man who haunts her to her death
is revolting.

I fall to my knees
and weep until they have to
pry me off of her grave site.

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