Robbing my own grave

Is it really grave robbing if it's your corpse you're snatching there? Or do you cease it's ownership if it's you who killed it?

It's purely for research purposes, you see.

A few years ago, she died. I probably killed her, the details are a little fuzzy and not important anyway.

Now I sort of need her. She must be rolling in her grave right now. Well, we'll soon find that out once we dig that far. Although whether she's supine or prone hardly matters to me.

It is strange actually. Why I miss her all of a sudden. She was the one who would get me in trouble. Stubborn, fierce, vocal and brave. All wrong qualities for such a person. Once you accept you are less than, there is no need for them, really. They simply become hindrance, and such bravery is stupidity.

She and her qualities. Couldn't protect her heart well. You need to lay down and take it to survive long term. Such is the paradoxical nature of life. She believed in getting back up everytime she was knocked down. With a many on one encounter, she was going to be worn down eventually.

It was a mercy, really. When knocked down, make sure she doesn't get up. Never gets up. Rob her of the audacity, and she'll be limp.

Then dig a grave. Put her there, gently. There is no need of unnecessary cruelty, after all. Avoid looking in her helpless yet lively eyes as you lower her down. Fill in the grave with meaningless nonsense, forget it ever existed.

But are you sure? Can you forget?

When walking in the crumbling black and white world, among people with dead eyes, the same eyes staring back in the mirror, do I pretend I didn't glimpse some color,some life in corner of my eye?

Do I pretend I don't hear "fight back. You're human, you're worthy" a blink before sleep?

I need answers. It is for research, after all. So I'll call it archeology, rather than grave robbing.

Come back. I'm digging. Breathe now. Fight back. Hold on. Be brave. Show me what you saw. Get back up when knocked down.

I don't know if the words are mine or hers.

Does it even matter? I knocked her down, I got back up. Who cares about the semantics.

Oh, and the red is back. So is the blue. I'd forgotten how fresh green looked.