A Woman Who Buys Cold Beer and Drinks it Warm

Ethel returned from the hospital,
Sitting face to palm for three whole days

When she opened her eyes, she saw traces of him,
Holding on to the past with her gaze

His keys sat on the counter
His laugh hid in the walls

Eyes closed, she felt his presence
She heard his lovely call

She stood abruptly, eyes still closed, following the voice

It led her to the sun porch where she was encountered with a choice

There were two things on the table;
His dagger and warm beer

She stared at them and picked one
She brought the dagger near

She closed her eyes, and suddenly,
His voice came booming out

“The dagger dear?! Already? You mustn’t waste my stout!”

She pulled the dagger from her neck and finished off his beer

Each sip gave her a memory
Each sip gave her a tear

From that point on, she bought a six pack every other day

And left it in the sun porch, until her thoughts were turning grey

One day, she woke up crying
With the worst thoughts of them all

And on the porch she sipped his beer and waited for his call

The memories, so vivid now, with every sip she’d take
She drank and drank and drank some more, and then… she couldn’t wake

Her body was too fragile to handle all that stout,
But she died within a memory that she couldn’t live without