Illness takes wife on a grim ride.
A husband cries bedside.
Wife’s wish to be ashes
tossed, for traditional burial
and proper goodbyes.
Stuck under earth,
a wife’s home forever lost.
She’s a ghost of a grave
cursing her visitors with illness
once they speak her name…
Husband stares at the poem written by his sick wife. Shaking, he moves to the next page.
Dearest,
If I go before you, don’t fate me to a box.
Let this tale serve as a reminder of the cost.
Burn me. Keep me.
Don’t make me angry.
— Wife
Leave a Reply