I swear to you, I was dead.

I swear to you, I was dead.

There I was,
lying there with the light
that I never turned off,
trying to penetrate into me
but I wouldn’t break.
I was already broken.

There I was,
rotting
my teeth (unbrushed),
with my jaw slack and open,
as if inviting the insects on my walls
to harvest my blood for their brood.

There I was,
unable to respond
to the crying of the telephone ring,
to the mourning of the radio waves.
My reply
a hovering stench
of silence.

There I was,
eating myself thin,
my stomach,
empty
on the meals I missed.
A cannibal.

And to my surprise I was born again.
I broke the crust that formed over my eyes.
I tasted the decay that crawled out of my mouth.
I turned to see the battle that left me dead.
But there I was,
alive.

It’s funny how life likes to play tricks like this,
to fool you into thinking
that all is lost
when in fact it’s just making sure
that you’re happy
when you’re given everything back.

It’s funny how life reminds you
that you’re still alive.