Wildfires

The wake is in three days.
I don’t want to go,
I really don’t have to go---
That body, that soul can rot
For eternity
Because I’m not going and nobody can stop me.

One,
Her eyes are dark black, round pupils
Mouth gaping wide open with jagged pearly white teeth
Not marred by the coffee and bile stains
She tried her best to hide when she was still breathing.
Not living.
B r e a t h i n g .

Two,
I’m alone, not lonely, because there’s a distinction.
My eyes are wide with fear and misplaced adoration
Which doesn’t make sense at all because I should
Be afraid, screaming, trying to get away
From this monster I used to call a friend.
Not an enemy.
My f r i e n d .

Three,
Where are you, Ana?
Why have you gone, Mia?
What did I do wrong?
It’s always my fault,
NevergoingtofixitwishIcould.
A p o l o g i e s .

Immobility.
Mind-numbing,
Bones rattling,
Mental instability.

Three fucking days and she’ll be gone.

I sleep in the bathtub with a hair dryer within reach
In case I decide to electrocute myself her when she returns.