If he said it was right
to wake in the morning & wish to go back to bed.
To be so full of life,
then so full of these feelings for whom I've never met,
only in death,
I'm not sure if they were even a person yet. They must've been; I created it.
It was half of me and half of him, & I think I wanted it.
I've labored a shrivel of death,
far too many times to try to forget.
Back and forth in my head.
Do I regret it?
If you never let it take a breath,
then why is it dead?
That's what he said.