"My Dying Diane" by Ellie McElvain
To Diane the Guzmania,
My sweet bromeliad
“Durable plant;
dramatic central flower”,
You’re dying.
You’re dying and
it is beyond my abilities
to save you
Diane
The bruises along
the center of your
once triumphant leaves
look painfully emotional
You’re a tough bitch, Diane
And I hate failing you
I hate that goddamn
shady windowsill
that refused to reach the sun
Smallpox, black lung, ebola
are nothing compared to the horrifying
crawl of pure isolated decay
You’re still here
And that dramatic central flower
carries itself with the dignity
and humility
of a defeated Atticus Finch
This can’t be a cliched metaphor
for my life, my love life, my emotional stability,
my general mental state,
because
it’s not about me.
It’s about you, Diane.
Diane. Durable. Dramatic.
You deserve more.
