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Writer's pictureClint Haugen

Dead For Awhile Now

When I am waking up

from a drunken sleep,

I reach out for you,

but you aren’t there anymore,

my reach hits the cold darkness of the night.

And I am reminded,

I

am

alone.


When I am in my kitchen,

drinking wine

and

making spaghetti

(The one dish you taught me to make

that I still remember)

I dream that you’re there

with me,

dancing drunk in our kitchen,

blasting your music.

“We make spaghetti

when we get upsetti”,

you tell me.

It’s so stupid,

but

it makes me smile.

I wake up from my dream

and see an empty kitchen.

The spaghetti is ruined.

Another victim of the dream…


When I am alone,

on top of a butte,

I look out into the sky,

and cry out for you.


Only the the empty echo of my own voice

answers back.


When I lay out

on a starry summer night,

when every cloud in the sky has disappeared for the night,

and the stars are shining brighter than usual,

I pretend to talk to you.

But only

the voice inside my head

answers me back.


When I hear of a car crash,

where a young woman has died,

I immediately panic,

thinking that it might be you.

My heart sinks

and I fight back tears.

Then I remember,


I’ve been dead to you for a while now.


-C.H.


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