Mourning The Living Poem by Rossella Rossella

I wake up into a dream every morning.
I'm standing in a crowded room and everyone is laughing and smiling.
It's like one big party.

But in the midst of the room there is a bed.
On the bed there is a girl.
She lies there. Sometimes she moves but she is dead.
I stare into her eyes. They are crying but at the same time motionless.

No one seems to even notice she's there.
I try to get there attention but no one seems to take me seriously.
I call 911.

When they arrive I tell them what happened.
They walk into the room and then they wrestle me onto a stretcher.
I start to tell them they need to help the girl, but then I stop.
The body is gone.
I realize that the girl is me.