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Death Comes in Threes

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Chapter 38 (v1)
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Chapter 38 (v1)


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A Wake-Up Call
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A Wake-Up Call From Tradition


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finally, literature for
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(recovery)
The post near fatal
car-accident poetry
from Janet Kuypers
(recovery)


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Elemental
Elemental
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Stabity Stabity
Stab Stab Stab

of some of Janet Kuypers᾿poetry about death
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Rape, Sexism, Life & Death
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This writing was accepted for publication in the
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Why Peace Will
Forever Elude Us

Down in the Dirt, v167
(the November/December 2019 Issue)




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Down in the Dirt

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Legacy
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Get It Over With

September 17, 1998


I wonder how much time would pass
before it you'd start to think that
everything was okay and that you
for no reason could be happy
I wonder how much time
would have to pass
to get to that point, where the world
seemed good again and you could just
move on with life

---

sometimes I think about the
number of people I have
cared about and who have died
My mother's parents died
when i was born and
My father's parents
died when I was younger, and my
brother's ex-wife died, too
and a man i dated for over a year,
closer to two,
dies at an early age -
and I've seen friends go off to war,
when I was sure they were
going to die, they came back, just fine.

so how do we get to that point, where
the pain from the death of someone
disappears from inside you. How many years
does it take for that pain to be
acknowledged before it can
be forgotten

---

I asked my mother today when
someone I cared about died, it thought,
I should have mourned him, and
i should have been sad, and I wanted
to know what time of year did he die

I couldn't remember being
sad because he was dead and I couldn't
think of what time of year it
happened. And my mother responded
by saying, he's not dead.
And then it all came back to me

---

I hate it, and I hate myself for it
but no one missed me
I had a huge void in my life,
and I didn't know how tofill in the gaps

do I have another 60 years of this to go

sometimes you just forget life
what you're living life for
life passes you by
you've got nothing to show for the years

what if someone I loved once,
someone i love still,
what if someone who is dead were alive
and tried to come to me to and they tried
to make me laugh

I'd think, wait, he's dead
I'm going to have to remember
him this way
I wanted him to just be him
I wanted him to crack a joke
make me laugh and be his usual self

I want people to laugh, and crack jokes
and be senseless and silly, sometimes
like I like to be.

who is it harder on when someone dies?
Is it harder on the ones who have to die?
or the survivors who have to live
with only a handful of memories?

When I almost died, I didn't think about death
I had to get better
I had to teach myself how to eat
and walk
and talk
and people can make fun of me for it
but they don't have to start from scratch
they can't start with noting

I had to get out of that wheelchair
when people imposed rules on me
I made my own rules
no one would want to hear my stupid rules anyway
they'll have to learn their rules on their own time

Even when some of us
think we have it all together
someone throws us the curve ball
of death to tell us that we might have
been wrong, that we might not have
been prepared for everything

How do you prepare for something like
this, though



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