i keep seeing you die before i wake up


you lie in a hospital bed
eyes behind a curtain i can’t touch
you look at me
ask who i am
and a light goes out

we’re at home
around midnight
a single lamp on in the bedroom
on your nightstand
comforter around your neck
eyes closed
you breathe deep
your exhale never ends
your chest caves in
like canyon walls

we’re driving to a concert downtown
you’re at the wheel
merging left to get off on seneca
a mustang goes 20 over
doesn’t see us
clips our left bumper
and your side swings into
the bottom of a semi

we’re eating potato salad
at a picnic table in a city park
by the house your parents moved out of 15 years ago
we’re arguing
but i don’t really know what about
you throw your spoon at my face
storm off
disappear in the parking lot

a different timeline
where we never met
but i see you giving a speech
on the evening news
your name flashes on the chyron
something draws my eyes to it
and i look up
in time
to see a bullet enter your chest

we’re on a hike
along the coast
wading through wet sand, uneven boulders
you say you need a break
sweat coats your forehead
you become pale
chug from your nalgene
the one covered in ferret stickers
you suddenly turn over and vomit
keep vomiting
until you fall over completely
i turn you over, find the sos button
hanging from your shoulder strap
i check your airway and your pulse

you’re at work
busy
i text you to let you know i made it home
but you don’t respond
you’re busy
the weather report on tv is interrupted
by the news
of a bombing downtown
where you work

you smile at me
blood seeps through the gaps
between your teeth
blood drips down your chin
you say it’s okay

4 thoughts on “i keep seeing you die before i wake up

  1. I’ve read this several times now and I keep coming back to it… There’s something here that’s difficult for me to put my finger on. A profound sadness and a sense of impending doom and a feeling of being powerless. The imagery is shocking and brutal and heart-crushing. That fear of loss, which is all too familiar, and which intensifies as we grow older.

    This is on a whole different level. It’s magnificent and terrifying and surreal. It’s brilliant (as always). And it’s going to stick in my mind for awhile.

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    1. I appreciate your feedback so much! I almost didn’t post this one. It felt too close, I guess? You articulated the mixture of feelings I was going for really well. I was afraid it might be too off-putting or confusing. Your encouragement means a lot to me. Thank you so much!

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