There’s a long list of cliché sentiments I could spout in your direction,
and I’ll add one
Cliché begins in truth
You already know the truth and
that’s not an understatement
So maybe there’s a few years or decades or maybe there’s a few seconds before one of us dies with all of the unresolved still clutched tightly in our minds,
unmade beds get slept in, too.
What I won’t do is weep for your passing while you’re here
I’ve done plenty of that, looking down the road and regretting red lights I haven’t gotten to yet
I don’t know if I’m going to stop when I get there, or if I’ll just press the accelerator down and risk the ticket, take a chance on getting in a wreck
What difference does it make right now
what next week is thinking?
So I won’t do it. I believe that you know I don’t want you to go before me, but if we’re going to tally up our score sheets, I think I have more practice carrying my neck past the gallows unstretched,
I can deal.
Wherever you go when you get free
I hope you get to see your dog,
I know if your good boy is there it’ll be a good place.
I might never die, as far as I know. I could be the one, damned to immortality and cursed to love,
water too deep to swim or sink.
I hope not, I hope so, I hope I get to live before I go, I hope I die when I fall asleep, I hope some day I’ll get to sleep without hoping I don’t wake up.
I want a minute that isn’t mine.
I don’t know where to find the clock where it lives, but I am certain that it does live, that minute, sixty seconds of not-me, sixty ticks of being blissfully unaware of all of the terrible and tragic events hidden behind that phrase,
the words that ruin everything
I love you.
I want a minute of saying I love you without memory, without assured entropy, without the knowledge of good & evil.
I want a minute to be an idiot full of blind hope.
I want to tell you that I love you without knowing I’ll love you after you’re gone,
Without the red light six blocks ahead making my foot reach for the brake.
So I’ll spare you the repetition of cliché and trite expression, confined in familiar forms and well-explored territory.
Before you go
I will step in front of you
and we’ll tell the clock
“Just a minute.”