Purgatory Poem by Danielle Nguyen

Was it a heaven-place or a hell-place? They asked me.
And when I looked up, I wondered if they could see
a sky so grey.
I tell them, it was both.
When I woke up, there was nothing:
no thirst, no hunger,
no hot, no cold.
And when I opened my eyes,
all color was as mute as
the muffled ringing of the air.
The light was a smooth fog;
Perception was an afterthought,
distant calls from dusty corners.

But when I reached and grasped nothing,
a clarity struck me:
I did not see your face.
All around me, the blur
my muddled vision,
my muddled thoughts were stricken like
each nerve within bloomed ice.
My clenching, frozen body lay under the sky,
an emptiness I felt no desire to reach for
lest I dissolve, though I realized
I was already laid to waste.
Each muscle held the familiar ache,
an echo of your touch, as though
radiating a vague memory.

And when I forced myself to my knees,
my bones creaked
and my joins whined,
soft protests shooting through.
There was but one thing left -
just one, never both:
either you, or my life without you.
No death;
only the unforgiving, gray sky.