To be buried in a sea of tears

Note: Yes, I know this contains references to a certain filmed owned by a mouse with big, round ears. Tell him he can consider it free advertising, like he needs any. The film you ask? Pirates of the Caribbean, of course.

All your life you did as

your pain, your family, your friends

commanded you, the sickness too.

Death regularly visited

your bedside like an unrepentant

suitor, but you turned him away

with your pistol.

He left in a longboat,

but he always turned his head back

with a smirk. He knew.

One day he'd come back for the heart you took

and kept safe inside your chest.

He knew you'd rather stab the heart than give it back;

he knew you needed it more, but he wanted the heart.

That day he sent a monster to do his bidding,

a poison that slowly killed you from the inside out,

until it oozed out your pores and swelled

the whites in your eyes.

Then you knew.

You knew it was time to evacuate your torn and battered ship,

and say your goodbyes.

I watched you face that beastie with tears in both our eyes,

but you laid there proud and courageous as you always had,

this time with a sword in hand instead of a pistol.

Others have left this world not knowing the face of Death,

because they were too afraid to turn their head,

but you did.

I still miss you, and I think I will until

I board the Flying Dutchman myself,

but know this,

know this:

I would sail past the end of the earth and end of the seas,

if I could bring you back.

I know it would be for naught,

for I know you've found your peace.

Loss

I used to wonder what it would be like to lose her,

now I know.

It's like all the tissue in my chest

has been surgically removed,

all that's left is air.

It's like she'll come home and fix dinner

any day now,

and we're making funeral arrangements for someone else's mother.

It's like the past 21 years together have happened in an

moment too small to hold how much I'll miss her,

how much I miss her now.

Sunday

I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.

But paradise seems so far away from the lowest parts of Earth.

Here the air is dizzying,

hard to breathe.

Her breath barely fogs the mask on her face,

and her eyes fight to stay open.

Sunday's comin',

but I don't know when.