Heaven: a poem

Image: Flickr

She’s standing there in a hazed light,
a yellow aureole above her head
and a white robe. Wings held her
up above clouds as she smiled, so
alive and so beautiful. Gracefully
aged, her white hair was waves of
crystal clear ocean water swiftly
running through the air. No scars
on her skin anymore. No trace of
pain – just wrinkles from all of the
smiling. I used to love her like that
and I hated the frowns and the tears.
I couldn’t handle them so I let her go.
She left alone. She left all alone and
I stood there and did nothing.  

Mum, I only started caring about
your depression when I first
faced mine and if this is Heaven
what the fuck am I doing here? 

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