And my tormentor, my soon to be X boss, he flew back to the midwest
where his dead brother lay and it must be a terrible thing
and I know he didn't die suddenly like my cat, with the benefit of a relaxant and then
anesthesia, and then a heart stopped, because it kept beating past the point of where
the body could keep up, and the door to the next world opened up to him

And I know this person's heart didn't stop suddenly,
there was pain and gasping and desperation as the heart attack took hold
and a life flying past his eyes and falling and finally a comforting white light

And it's the living who grieve, including my soon to be X boss
who grieves now, naturally, this man who has tormented me and
taken the pleasure out of many days like mud wipes across a windshield
and I always thought, as he contentedly read his computer screen staring
into that as if it was a window to the next world and held the answers to all
creation in it
I thought, he never suffers, only I suffer.
The cold people never suffer thought I as I looked down at the latest bruise
and ached and found a slow way out
but it's not true
they suffer, he must be feeling the pain I can't imagine, the loss
and fear and reminder of mortality and the void that can't be filled,
but only by time.
And he is in this void, somewhere in the midwest
perhaps fielding calls about who he wants to replace me
and he suffers, he is not immune