drowned energy » poetry

Letters To Erin David: In The Clouds

I 

am

dying.

That's right, your beloved won't be on earth much longer, but with you in the clouds. I decided to make this my last letter to you, for we'll be reunited pretty soon. 

Turns out, the bullet that had gotten lodged in my back has been killing me since it struck me in '74. I guess the same thing that killed you will kill me too. My doctor told me that he could fix it but I don't want to be here any longer. My seven decades on earth has been pure hell.

As he broke the news to me, I cried and he promised that he can elongate my life. But then I told him, "She's been waiting for me, this is my chance to go be with her," and he began to cry too. Not because he wants to save me, but because he knows you. 

My soon-to-be-alone doctor is your brother, Parker. Your family still considers me family, despite your father's actions.

And he didn't ask again whether I was sure or not. Parker knew that I've been waiting for this bullet to kill me for years. However, he did suggest that I stay in the hospital for the rest of my days. He wanted to see me out, sort of as a farewell. 

"Katherine, sweet Katherine, I will miss you. But if this is what you want, I'll give it to you." Parker said as he took a step outside. I watched him pulled a cigarette to his mouth with his 64 year old hands as he began to cry and look at the clouds. 

That same night, I admitted myself to the hospital, fulfilling your little brother's wishes. The band on my wrist read "Katherine Braxton, age 71, 10/29/1945." I smiled, face aged with hurt and grief. But it didn't matter to me anymore, for we were going to be in 1968 for the rest of eternity. 

As I closed my eyes to blink I thought of the headlines that surfaced after that night and nodded. I was going to be okay, for I'll be with you now. 

I knew that soon I'd lose control of my body and my life would flash before me. Growing up in the 50's, running away from home, finding you, falling in love with you, losing you. Doctors and nurses would try to wake me back up and I would hear your brother's cries, knowing it was worthless. 

My life is will soon be over and I will be with you and I thank your  father for it. 

Turns out his bigotry will unite us after all.

                                                                                                                      Your
          love, 

                                                                                                                   Katherine.

---

This is not a dream,  just my perspective of reality