i’m pissed off that you’re dying

i’m pissed off that you’re dying.
i’m not heartbroken yet.
i’m just pissed.
pissed in that quiet, shaking way where even crying feels like a waste of fucking effort.

i’m pissed off that you’re dying.
not because it’s shocking.
not because it’s sudden.

you said it would happen.
you’ve been saying it for years.
but now the doctors say it too—
stage four.
bones.
lungs.
maybe a few years.
maybe less.

they say it like that should be a god damn blessing.
like time is a fucking favor.

i’m pissed off that you’re dying.
when we just crawled out of hell.
me, my kid, the dog.
the wreckage of a life we barely survived.
and you—
you were supposed to be here.

so of course now you’re the one the universe wants to take.
of course.
why not.
burn it all.
teach me another lesson.
make sure there’s nothing left but memory and rage.

i’m sick of lessons.
sick of resilience.
sick of the cosmos handing out grief like it’s my fucking birthright.

you were supposed keep living for us.
you were supposed to outlast the worst parts.
you were supposed to be here when it was finally safe to come home.

but no.
god does not give a fuck.

so now.
listening to treatment plans.
like it’s just so inescapable.

i don’t want to be grounded.
i don’t want to write some poetic shit about love and impermanence.

i’m pissed off that you’re dying.
and i swear to god—
this world is not taking you quietly.

we are going to ‘rage against the dying of the light.’

and if you go?
it goes with you.
my mercy.
my restraint.

i’m going to become something it regrets.

you were the last good thing.
and i’m so fucking pissed off that you’re dying.