Dear ____________,
I am the other side of your equation.
You worry for those you will leave behind.
But me? I am the one who has been left.
I used to think we were different,
but now I’m not so sure.
As a mother, you think: There will be no one here
who knows what it felt like to have
him kick inside the darkness of my womb.
As a lover, I think: there now is no one left
who knows my kick in bed at night
in the darkness of our room.
But this is where we differ –
you seem, at least, to face your future
without fear for yourself, worried instead
for the safety of those who death
will take you from. While I am satisfied
that the one I love is safe in death,
but am terrified to be here alone.
The thing about equations
is that they are supposed to
equal out at the end, and
I don’t believe ours does.
For I am minus your bravery,
or, at least,
your bravado.