Epilogue (Edit #1)

[UselessBlueprint]

I have no attachment to this, so please be as critical as possible.

Reading the obituary is much softer
than swinging the front door open
and seeing a once perfect face
dented, discolored, slashed
by shattered glass, broken
by blunt force trauma.

The obituary is easier than a phone call
from the police -- an alarm
clock I never set -- voices cold as her flesh
because they only see the finale,
not the whole film.

Writing her obituary is like
skipping the last five chapters
of another person's book
and attempting an epilogue
to a story that never ended.

Reading the obituary is much softer
than swinging our front door open
and seeing her once perfect face
dripping blood, nose cracked sideways
and her brown eyes emptied of life.

The obituary is easier than a phone call
from the police
at the darkest hour
of night, voices cold as her flesh
because they've only seen her finale,
not the whole film.

Writing her obituary is like
skipping the last five chapters
of another person's book
and attempting an epilogue
to a story that never ended.