She Said

She plunged to her death from a waterfall,
at least that's what they would say in her eulogy,
that she was fearless,
irreverent even,
unafraid of consequence and incapable of envisioning her demise

She told me once that she wanted to die in an exotic way,
that when people talked about this story for years to come,
they would praise her for her lack of hindsight instead of ridiculing it

She said that she would not pen a last will and testament,
for she did not believe them to necessarily reflect what she would want while walking into the light,
it was close,
but no cigar

She put her feet in the water,
rubbing her toes up against the charcoal,
until they bled,
until she slipped away

She found herself face down at the bottom of that faucet,
blue and buried,
and without the prestige

She puppeteered the people at that podium,
and put glitter in their eyes,
and without even trying,
became the angel they had always believed her to be

She was gift wrapped,
in a box,
without valiance,
with the noise of her plans seeping back up through the grass