Our Final Draft

You and I are two pages in a book
Our story always destined to meet
Connected by a comma or ellipsis.
I pray the reader does not drop us
In the bathtub or leave us
To the terror of a teething toddler
Before our plot can come to fruition.
I wonder do you think of me
While building dialogue upon action?
Do you know it will lead to me
Waiting for your climactic arrival?
Do not prolong it for too many chapters,
Out of fear that I should long to revise you,
For I know each typo that has followed you here.
It does not restrain my devotion to our final draft.

Therefore, peruse my priceless pages
Fawn over my flirtatious foreshadowing
Do not skip a single line
As it may be the one where we find each other.

We are one book.
We shall name it Tomorrow.

Wrongful Life

From the depths of the earth
From the heavens above
I imagine the trial of my murderer.
The silence of the courtroom disturbed
Only by the anxious fidgeting of a jury
Made up of my peers or hers?

The honorable judge holds gavel in hand
Even breath concealing weighted heart
As my story becomes testimony.
My name: Exhibit A.
My birthday finds me dead
By the hands of one I trusted
One I loved.

Collective gasps steal air from the room
As my murderer is called to the stand,
Taking an oath that requires honor
On a book that emits holiness
One she does not have
The other she does not deserve.
Her validated smirk still sickens me
As she begins to explain away my life
With the same words she used
While plotting my demise.

I didn't want her around.
She wasn't what I expected.
It wasn't like she had any real worth.
She was bad for me.
I'm a better person with her gone.
I brought her into this life and I can take her out.
After all, it was my choice.

The last word slices through my soul.

I imagine the jury shifting uncomfortably
The judge tightening his grip on the gavel
My father weeping in the corner
Of a room full of choices
Each one offering justice or justification.

From the depths of the earth
From the heavens above
I imagine a trial I long for,
A trial that will never come.

Because she stole my voice
Before I could develop it
And no one would speak for me.

Because she shut my eyes
Before I could learn to open them
And no one would see for me.

Because she took my choice
Before I could stand to make it
And no one would choose for me.

For my life.

No one waited to ask me for my choice.
Inconvenience turns murder to termination
Easier to say perhaps
But do not be mistaken
A beating heart was stopped that day.

Just be glad it wasn't yours.

She has my whole world in her hand.

Gentle kisses land
On tiny fingers as they
Reach out for my heart.