Her Belt

I wonder if she thought of me
when she cinched her belt,
and if she had to punch
extra holes in the leather
before she did it,
and if it was real leather
or as fake as we were.
I wonder these things,
and quickly follow up
my wondering with more,
like why I am this way,
and if I was the one
who handed her that belt
when I walked into her life
and took it from her.
Living feels hard
when death comes calling,
whispering names
that sound like yours,
but dying seems easy
when life comes calling,
shouting names
that should have been hers.
And maybe that is why
I wonder about that fucking belt
more than anything else.
That belt would have served me better,
holding up the weight of this life
she would have lived
fuller than I have.

Β© Nicole Lyons 2017

11 thoughts on “Her Belt

  1. Dying is always very easy, living, that’s what’s hard, because we must face the different trials of our separate lives on our own, and nobody is able to help us out, we’re the only ones we can rely on, to pull ourselves through these hard times in our lives…

    Liked by 1 person

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