When I Die

Originally published on atrangizindagieksafar


By: Ranjeeta Nath Ghai

“I can feel myself wheeze
Every time you open the door
And turn the keys.

Small, grainy dirt
Now clings to my toes.
The chill of the wet cold air
Chokes my throat.
I feel my heart freeze
Every time I cough up.
The cushions beneath me
No longer not break my fall
As I step over a ditch.
Your six-foot tall frame
Is now too big
For my frail frame to carry.
We’ll pretend
Like it didn’t hurt
Just hug me lovingly
Once more
When I die, and
Before you let me go
It’s obvious you can’t bury me
So off to the scrapyard I shall go…”
…the car said to the driver.


© All Rights Reserved.
©Ranjeeta Nath Ghai,  atrangizindagieksafar, 2016.

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