Stranger. That is what I am.
Sitting people all in black and white, I am estranged to everyone, except one person.
She is the only human who knows me here.
But surely, she can never say who I am.
—
She’s imperfect but she tries.
She is good but she lies.
—
Silence. Murmurs. Quiet sobs.
The humans that surrounds me is as still, as her, as me.
I am somehow a gatecrasher to a wake I was not invited to.
But I am here, for her, for a woman who used to be mine.
—
She is hard on herself.
She is broken and won’t ask for help.
—
Her mom has spoken, in between loud wails.
Her husband has said a short heartless sentence.
Her little lass, who looked just liked her, sung a song.
Her best friend has stood and hold the microphone, but wasn’t able to utter any word.
—
She is messy but she’s kind.
She is lonely most of the time.
—
Now it’s my turn.
“Anyone who want to offer words for…”
I stood, just before the sentence was finished.
Everyone looked at me.
I gripped the small piece of paper I’ve been holding for hours
It contains the eulogy I have written…for the only girl that I loved.
—
She is all of this mixed up.
And baked in a beautiful pie.
She is gone but she used to be mine.
—–
©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Pixabay
Based on: She Used to Be Mine by Sara Bareilles
Wow. It’s a really, really beautifully written short story. Or should I say, kind of the unspeakable memory? It’s seriously amazing. And so is the song. Well done, Rosema!
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Hello there! I am glad you love both the story and the song! YAY! Your words make my heart melt!
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wow, this is fantastic
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Thank you, Mel!
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You’re welcome
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❤
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“Like” though it’s a hard place and time. But there is frankness here and authenticity. Good, brave, lyrical work. Thank you!
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Thank you for your yet another inspiring and insightful comment! 🙂
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