The Gallows' Pride Poem by Mary Grace

I

I love you to death my Dear
and death loves me to death
This is the rope by which it hangs me
much more detailed than the life I cling to

Knocks me unconscious if lucky I am
and if not rightly so, then fully so
getting used to sleeping
so happy to draw life from me

In my little room
I have the most of meaning
but now I have so little room
I wonder what does that mean

My brothers would never let it happen
my sisters happen everywhere
the priest my hangman to be
loves me just enough to pull the chair

II

The blood will come on top
for a short drop
breathing in and out
its whereabout

The whispers choking in my throat
fail their meaning – ten seconds from now on
I set my sail and boat
onto a breathless sea

That thrusts its waves
around the air that’s left for me
bluer than ever with water
I missed its meaning – ten seconds gone

Awake as Dear Darling
swelling with the thought of you
no longer awake ever since
breath was not fortunate on us

The blood all darning up
breathing out and out
The blood will stop
and crop its whereabout

Never would I have thought
to shiver to such extend
– put to test that feeling once …
… one, two, three – my life is up to me! –

III

A pause in breathing
have I finally lost it all
– two minutes from now on –
A pause in breathing

It’s not gone it’s just inside
the gallows’ pride two-to-one
one to abide two to get gone
head-on weight-light

Save the best of breath for the last that is
One impermanent was not enough
some more to follow its silent cough
– two minutes gone –

Gasping for air that’s not even there
What is it about choking that reminds
me so of you, so unlike me, so
We die as equals feeling our muscles dim

Living you died of me and dying I live on you
pupils wide to see but a darkness, reflexes give
in now I have so little room
that choking merely means the inability to live