Laughing at Death

Last winter, Donna was driving me home and we were laughing so hard we didn't see the buck that ran across the road, escaping the car by literal inches. If we had hit him, we would have died.

We were laughing until we realized how close to death we really got

silence ensued; quiet reflections on the fact that we still had finger bones

and no matter how lost and alone and scared you are

you kind of realize you want to live your life when the knife is at your throat

we turned up the radio even though the song was terrible

I think it was my favorite song that day; wholehearted appreciation that I could still hear

That I was still here and I was breathing and my heart hadn’t stopped beating

I was finally one of the lucky ones

Only because I could still twiddle my thumbs or reflect on the idea of a god

Or just sit quietly and try not to think anything

like maybe there are spaces between my ears where I am empty

but a moment before death, even empty is plenty

Sometimes I think I forget how easy it is to forget that we’re alive

that breathing is hard and we should do it with feeling

that even loss and pain and loneliness are better options than darkness

trust us, we were almost the disappearing magic trick

the shtick that made people cry and wonder why so young

we were almost songs unsung and even if our lives are just words on the radio

they still mean something to at least one person that we know

My tongue grazed my still-warm lips as I sang the chorus 

because it felt so good to be able to sing and that’s the thing

we’re all cliche because none of us know what we have until it’s over

from song to life to almost lover we are immune to time until it has passed

that’s why at first when we met death, we laughed.