For my Lizzard, who is gone

It has been said (it is true) that death sustains life.
That for everything living and breathing to continue
living and breathing,
other things must give their life and breath.
The salmon's writhing life channeled into the hungry bear;
the tiny seeds colonized to be uprooted and devoured
by human mouths.
The trees that die to make room for new saplings,
The people that die to make room for others.
The people that die to remind us that we are living.
The people we know who die and
remind us not to forget our fact of life, to cherish and adore our every breath.
The people we love who die and
leave us living,
like you, with your gorgeous, toothy smile now
underground, rotting and unseen.
Must I sustain your life with my life?
I will wear your toothy smile;
no one will know it is not my own. They will be inspired by its radiance.
I will breathe deeply and fully,
I will savor the sweetness of each lungful of air
because you cannot and also because
you are the air, and you sustain my life.
(I am alive because of and in spite of you.)


[I wish I had someone to help edit my writing; I know writing always sucks at first, no matter how much you like it. I guess I am okay with writing as an emotional release for now though.]