Sometimes
When anger's sharp claws
Threaten to rip a hole
Through my chest
Crush my ribs
With its weight
I imagine myself as a corpse
Pale and gaunt
Funeral home lipstick desperately seeking to bring out
Any residue of blood left in my cheeks
Hands cold and stiff
Slightly tinged blue
Formaldehyde sitting stagnant in my veins
My mouth carefully sculpted
In a peaceful
Unnerving
Unnatural
Smile.
I imagine you.
How would you look?
Would you cry?
Would your face be splotchy?
Eyes puffy and dry from countless
Sleepless
Nights?
Would you scream?
Would you strain your vocal cords?
Until you cannot muster up the strength to whisper?
Until all you can do
Is cough and gag?
Would you muster up the courage to see the casket?
To drag your shaking legs to stare
In the glassy eyes
Of your greatest sin?
Would you feel anything at all?
Or would you
Sit
In the back pews
Face as rigid as it ever was
Unmoved.