A loud bang
And then nothing but the void
The emptiness of space.
A gaping hole in the back of my skull
An air vent for my corpse
A hole big enough for the doctors to put back in what was blown out.
The undertaker will be proud presenting this beautiful corpse
Show off the porcelain face the bullet did not scratch
Make the fatal wound invisible.
The fatal wound
Leaves a stain on the wall
Paint over it before the buyers see the room
Where he did it.
Scrape off embedded parts of my skull
“He was only 26, such a waste”
Cold winds through the open window dry the paint
“What’s for dinner?”
Forgotten by the time the ad for frozen vegetables finishes.
30 seconds, here’s my soul.
The old lady boils the kettle for the cleaners
Next year will be better
The blood patterns portend a prodigious harvest of grain
It’s no coincidence the shot was fired on a full moon
The last wisps of bleach on the floorboards will be gone by tomorrow
Climb into the truck, turn the key.
26 years. Not a wink, nudge, or second thought
Pass the remote.
It took 26 years.