I never understood
how flowers grew through concrete
until I saw the smile slice through your sad eyes.

And your voice echoed
like screams in an empty corridor
after losing the only thing that mattered to you.

You wore your pride like a crown,
didn't let anyone tear you down
but sometimes the throne was too much pressure.

You poisoned your spectators
slowly, like secondhand smoke
before giving them a breath.

Consequences do not apply
when your arrogance is blind
and you play the man in the sky.

But you will fall to your knees
because it's Judgment Day,
and you're the world's biggest sinner.

Week 1: I was laughing exactly twenty-two minutes after I held your lifeless hand. They called it coping. I called it insanity.

Week 2: I haven't slept a full night in a week because I can't remember the last thing you said to me.

Week 3: I still reach for your hand every time an airplane flies by. I still despise planes.

Week 4: Can you ask God if I'm allowed to be angry yet?

Week 5: I mourn the grandchildren you will never meet and I will never bear because they might have your eyes.

Week 6: We lit a cigarette for you today as if God would let such a deadly sin into the pearly gates. Happy birthday.

Week 7: I've never liked this house.

Week 8: I jokingly call other people Dad until it doesn't sting to say that word anymore.

Week 9: "I want to have a better relationship with you," turned into "I'm so sorry," too quickly.

Week 10: Depression is such a mouthful, three course meal of arsenic.

Week 11: You always told me I had a natural beauty, didn't need to paint a face of porcelain. I wear a lot of makeup now.

Week 12: I'm still not ready to write about you yet.

And now the
Sweetest voice
Is a whisper of an echo
Of a memory.
And pictures fade,
Muted colours of shame.
And the mind
Plays ***** tricks.
And the heart
Drowns in silent tears.

Since when did darkness
Become my only light