She’s the backbone
Of the entire construct
Of my life
What will I do
When she is gone?
I’ll want it back
This life’s construct
Even as much as I hate it now
I’ll want it back
Now, I choke on my words
I choke and I die
A little more every day
The living death
What will I do
When she is gone
I won’t have to choke
Any longer?
Will I want it back?
Oh God
I hope not
I hope I can live
Without remorse
Without regret
But I know
That simply won’t be possible
Still and always
The living death
Until I am dead,
Too.