Alive (Poem)

 I’ve died, and my lifeless body lies where I once was 
All my extraments scattered around the room; I never was much of a looker, was I? 
The piss soaked sheets and blood splattered walls
The grief-filled pillow and love-filled jar on the top shelf that remains virgin
The only part of me that has never been used
My bruised knuckles from fighting death off; I lost
My tears stay in my eyes for the first time
I’m cold to the touch 
They say it was an accident 
They say they don’t know what happened
They use my bruised knuckles as evidence  
They cry out, “Don’t let them in the room!” 
“You can’t go in there.” 
“Please! You’ll ruin everything!”
They know your power 
You stumble into the pit
Your delight’s has faded out
Your treasure scattered around the room
Not a sound escapes your lips
You see where I still lay 
Scream, wail, do anything, my spirit begs 
I want to go home
Home is with you
Your voice breaks 
A whisper of my name 
War is won
Lifting my hands toward the sun 
My body soaks in its extraments 
The last thing that is absorbed is the love-filled jar
It always was the hardest thing to digest 
Your delight is back to light 
Your treasure wrapped neatly in my chest 
See how you bring me back to life

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