poetry

Your death smelled so pleasant

Your death smelled so pleasant to me
Like it was the first rain of the season;
The caution of an incoming storm.
Well-dressed men rushed into my office
They told me you were unwell
You were shot in the abdomen
By the enemy forces
They shot you through your jacket
That had PRESS written on them.

I gathered my stuff from the table
It wasn’t much
Keychain with a scented bottle
A book, and a pen
All that you gave me, and hurried towards the hospital.

However, then I was diverted towards home
The smell of eerie silence circulated inside
the car that we drove
across the desert.
While our friends left this place, some country
Moreover, some the earth itself.
However, we held on, we were adamant
This land was our home.

The vehicle slowly made its way through the
Stormy streets,
It poured incessantly.
I prayed in silence that we drive forever
and never reach home
But we inched closer.

The parking lights of numerous cars
and their beautiful red reflection on the raindrops
lit up the way to our home.
Our home never looked so beautiful

They didn’t have to say it out loud to me
I knew,
I knew for sure.

My heart beat in ultra slow motion
Like the time, you shot me on your phone twirling
You shot me moving closer to your face.

I knew it was all over
As I got out of the car,
I felt the smell of frankincense flowing out of
Our door
Where you once stood and
Smirked at me
At thirty, oh so young
Remembering the time I mocked you
Called you old, closer to the grave
and I laughed out loud at the doorway as you left for work.

I didn’t mean it; we were going to
Travel some more,
Write some more weren’t we?
The storm knocked electricity out
The candles smelled pleasant
I bent down to pick a white rose at the door
That probably lost its way inside from.

Your casket smelled so ethereal
As if I was feeling your face through my nose
Lillies covered our floor
Also, there you were in the center, lifeless

The body as they called it
Because you left without saying goodbye.
Our house was in dressed in flowers today
Around you, over you and all over.

If only you smiled
Your death would have been as heaven-like
as your life.
Your death smelled so pleasant to me
That I cried.

 

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