In stark liquid darkness I drown
Only the voices in my head to convince me
I'm still among the land of the living
One sounds like me
The other sounds like my dad
After his voice turned weak
Only two days into a hospital stay
When a blood clot killed him in the middle of the night
I was not there
I ask if he was asleep when it happened
He avoids the question
I ask if he died in pain and confusion, alone in the darkness
He wants to talk about George Jones
So I talk to him about George Jones
And Waylon Jennings and Merle Haggard
All the country singers I love in part
Because he loved them so
I stand outside and listen to the conversation
He never asks me why I wasn't there
I never tell him
I let him talk and talk and talk some more
Until his voice sounds even more sore
Leukemia had it's prize stolen from right before it's eyes
They'd only  had time to shave his head
He didn't look much like my dad
I ask him how he made it seem easier than it was
He seemed to take my mother's leaving harder
But that was a long time ago, those years
Probably taught him some tricks
He said it was easier
Because I wasn't there