He Necessarily Exists

I'm going senile,
but I don't know why.
It could be because 1932 is getting further away
or because of my loss.

I don't remember much anymore.
The days blur together;
Thursday feels like Saturday,
but most days feel like Sunday,
my least favorite days.
You'd always put on your dress and matching bonnet-
simply breathtaking.
I still smell the perfume you wore.
I wish it would intoxicate me like before.
We'd drive to the church;
a drive I lamented,
but you loved church so much.
Every time I thought:
"Let the preacher fill your head with delusion,
anything to let that smile grace my day."
Grace-

I don't sleep much anymore.
I've forgotten what my arms are supposed to do
when I'm alone.
I toss and I turn
trying to rediscover that heartbeat-
my white noise.
Your soft snores still keep me up,
but not because they are loud;
because I end up trying to find you.
I've rummaged through all the covers.
I've tried letting Betsy lay on the bed.
Nothing makes a better Ambien than you,
Grace-

I don't talk much anymore.
The strain to raise my voice seems to be too much.
I can still whisper
in that tone you loved so much.
'Pillow talk' you called it...
You made it sound so innocent.
It's not the same whisper though.
there's a small whimper now.
I can hear my breaths separated,
in a fast waltz rhythm-
it reminds me of our first dance-
and I cry a little more.
I can't remember the last time my cheeks were dry,
Grace-

I don't smile much anymore.
I know you'd love to see it.
You said it brightened your day,
and seeing you smile made mine bigger.
But when I know I'll never see yours again,
it's hard to be gleeful.
I think I have two facial expressions now:
somber and sorrow.
Why did you take all my emotions away with you?
Grace-

I don't listen to 'Amazing Grace' much anymore.
It brings me to tears every time.
I know you loved it
when I'd sing it to you,
but every line acts like a crown of thorns
being pushed further and further into my head.
My wrists and ankles punctured-
unable to walk or write.
I'm lying in my tomb now,
but that boulder won't budge.
My demons acting as the Romans
pushing that boulder,
with no success.
I reluctantly persist in my vegetative state,
for one reason-
Grace.

Reviews

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

This was so very lovely and it evoked such emotions which are difficult to describe..a beautiful,gentle voice that grows on the reader and lingers long after reading..

[Ruth]

Grace, wow, another piece of thought provoking excellence!
The aging of the self and the emotions! The loss, so apparent with the moving of time, goodness, this hits the spot! xx

[la Abeja]

Very moving. Old age is the worst disease ever. And the loss of someone you love, makes it even more torturous. Great Write!