Speaking at a Funeral

Brianna Le / V Mag at UVA

Thank you for letting me speak today

for the love that has given me freedom & 

the one who went the distance for me, always

it’s nice to know who you needn’t talk to 

or prove yourself to 

no matter how ugly nose picking mascara running frizzy

nice to know who would still love you

sat together purring in silence


she would drape herself over me when it rains, 

the warmest place i’ve ever known, 

i’ve buried my face in her soft to soak up my tears

too many times to count

her sturdy care always held me together

even though in the end, i couldn’t do the same for her

i’m sorry, little one


i’m being vague on purpose

So we might relate—your dead pet is just like mine.

But you’re tightlipped nodding your condolences and curiously peek into the casket 

it’s empty

no body in sight

It’s not like that—she’s not 

dead

i’m just giving her up

i’m giving her up

for a payout

for five thousand dollars

not my cat

my car

but who’s to say i won’t do this to her, 

when she’s ruined 

someday?


A little girl sat in the middle of a double lane slick road one decade ago & prayed the giant machines would lose control

for years after, what made her leave that night kept her 

barred in the house

sometimes, though, she could slip through the door after matching the squeaks of the steps with the croaks of the night and breathe free when

she laid her body on a stranger’s car to see Orion or maybe The Three Sisters but mainly the city stained milky grey ink sky

she wondered what it would be like to feel this

& safe


back then, I would have killed for my little engine that could 

an auction house and a loan brought me a childhood dream

tiny and grey and blue book reliable, comfortable, & safe

her axles ached with 160,000 miles under her belt

sometimes she coughed black at stop lights 

but the Virginia sticker said she passed

and she could sing even louder than me

I knew she was mine.


in one year we’ve done 25,000 just us from first dates to job offers

to realizations and resolutions 

to reunions to

beach weeks to 

outrunning a blizzard and a fire alarm

from the South to the East Coast’s big city—three times

to Costco to dogsit to drunk friends emergency rides

to a slam, 

crash.


I will always love her, even after our goodbye 

even after she is torn to shreds 

and repurposed to scraps 

but tonight, I’ll watch the stars from the inside of my car

her cloth will soak up my tears for the last time

I am safe & I will cry

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Bedtime Story II