what if death is a fast-paced movie reel
a collection of pictures of all the people
you've had the chances to love and kiss
but didn't

what if death is being in close proximity to the person you love
close enough to see them
but not enough to hear them, to speak to them
to touch them

what if death is constantly experiencing firsthand
every family member's desperate breakdown
every instance of pure, unbridled instance of misery
caused by the news of your passing

what if death is sitting in your car with the first person you ever loved
and having them tell you that there was someone else
and that no, the baby was not yours (i'm sorry)
and you just keep feeling the tears roll down your cheeks
but no matter how many times you wipe it away,
or press your hand against your chest to prevent your beating heart
from exploding through your rib cage

what if
death is just
constant, relentless ******* pain.