Death Certificate (of what once was)

I lie naked on my back, my thoughts perched on my stomach, curtains tied back, windows bare, as moonlight still streams in across the flesh of my abdomen, my pearls still loosely draped around my neck. The queen chair in the corner of my bedroom dressed in the scarf and skirt I had previously tossed there.

Later on this morning, when daylight breaks, I will make phone calls, write e-mails, make arrangements for the funeral, sign the death certificate, wipe the tears from beneath my black veil, and put my old life in the coffin just before they lower it into the ground, never wanting it to be rewarded with an eternal life. 

     In between mouthfuls of air, I’ll sip steaming hot French vanilla flavored coffee, and take note of the now unrecognizable mangled corpse of what once was. I will hear the bantering slightly irritated note in the bird's voice outside my window, as he watches yet another drama production of my life pass before him.

Against all good and reasonable judgment, life happens, to all of us. Then you act adult - like, grow up, and move on.........well, eventually you do, anyway. I just wish I had been in the bathroom when it came at me the first time around, toiled blood, sweat and tears, and here I am, ready for round two of whatever life has to offer up.

I hope it comes flavored in sea salt and chili dark chocolate this time around, and surrenders itself to me right at my doorstep. I also hope it brings with it, tulips and the fresh air smell of an early spring.