Esme DeVault
Death Wish
there was a time
back then,
you know-
way back then,
when I told myself
not with a whisper
or with a tear,
but quite out loud
(and I mean this in the kindest way)
that You would be better off dead.
no more torment,
no more suffering,
no more agonizing uncertainty.
once, when you asked my permission
to just slip away, into the ether
I told you that I could not give it.
but brother,
You know I wanted to,
as it surely seemed
like the pain of your life
cast a shadow long enough
to eclipse almost everything
and filled the hole on the horizon
that your absence would bring.
but I couldn’t be that selfish--
so I hid that death wish away
in a bag, in a box, in a jar
sealed up, airtight
and tossed it into the sea.
Now,
now that You are back here
back among us
and we laugh
and we argue
and we cry
I’m just so glad
that I was too weak back then
to give you what you wanted.
but I do worry
just a little bit
at times
that Someone
on the other side of that ocean
will find that jar,
and unscrew its lid,
and open the box,
and unseal the bag,
and find what lies within.
back then,
you know-
way back then,
when I told myself
not with a whisper
or with a tear,
but quite out loud
(and I mean this in the kindest way)
that You would be better off dead.
no more torment,
no more suffering,
no more agonizing uncertainty.
once, when you asked my permission
to just slip away, into the ether
I told you that I could not give it.
but brother,
You know I wanted to,
as it surely seemed
like the pain of your life
cast a shadow long enough
to eclipse almost everything
and filled the hole on the horizon
that your absence would bring.
but I couldn’t be that selfish--
so I hid that death wish away
in a bag, in a box, in a jar
sealed up, airtight
and tossed it into the sea.
Now,
now that You are back here
back among us
and we laugh
and we argue
and we cry
I’m just so glad
that I was too weak back then
to give you what you wanted.
but I do worry
just a little bit
at times
that Someone
on the other side of that ocean
will find that jar,
and unscrew its lid,
and open the box,
and unseal the bag,
and find what lies within.
Biography
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Esme DeVault is an attorney and poet living in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and dog Charlie. She was previously an English teacher and an academic reference librarian. She has had poems published in Motherscope, Jonah Magazine, The Big Windows Review, and forthcoming in Inkling Literary Magazine.
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