Grief.
A five letter word right?
No biggie?
Biggie.
Grief is why her mom is always mad.
Grief is why her sister became so distant.
Grief is why he looks down and hopes that they will do better.
Grief is why she’s lost.

She doesn’t know who to call Mom anymore,
That’s not the parent she knew.
Or maybe it is.
Has mom always been this way?
She doesn’t know anymore.

Why’s her sister so mean?
Why is her sister so quiet.
She used to be bright and friendly.
Now she hides behind anger.

She used to have such bright eyes.
A drive behind her proud stride.
A flawed yet supported system.
Now it is broken.

Her family was never perfect,
It was always almost enough
It was messy in a good way
It was whole

Now it is empty.

The king is gone,
The princesses without their crown.
The queen sleeps with the dragon,
And everyone around.

You’re were,
A father?
No,
You were a runner.

Were.
You can’t run anymore.
You hid your heart while you ran,
So it never got stronger,
When you finally did use your heart,
Your heart was weak,
So weak that it killed you.

Now I’ll wear it,
Your ashes,
In a heart.

A badge dangling from my neck,
A sign,
A remembrance that shows how to use a heart.

-For, if you use it incorrectly it’ll **** you, I’ve learned.

If I was a little skinnier,
If I was a little shorter,
If I was taller,
If I was stronger,
If I was curvier,
But what if I was less doubtful?

What if I was less criticizing,
Less negative,
What if I was more positive,
If I was happy with myself?

Would I rise above,
Would I learn to love myself and others,
Could I spread more positivity?

How hard could it be?

What if we were was less doubtful within ourselves?

It feels new,
Like a new glove,
Something you have to get used to over time.

A new feeling,
A new thought,
Something positive,
Something good,
And it feels great.

It feels like warm sunlight on your skin after winter,
Like getting ahold of an old friend,
It feels like driving by a field of flowers,
Like making a home run,
It feels like a warm drink after a cold day,
Like a good rest after a hard day,
It feels amazing.

It’s not a temporary happy,
Not a forced smile,
It’s genuine,
It’s lasting,
It’s happy.

What is this feeling,
This emptiness I feel,
This loss of hope,
The worry to be alone.

The nightmares that come with this package, This deal in a nice, neat bow,
The nightmares that tell me things,
Things like everyone will leave me,
The ones that say I disappoint my father,
Even from his grave,
The ones that say I should just jump,
Jump off the nearest bridge, that is,
That it’ll just make their lives easier.

I know they’re wrong,
I know my friends are stable as a rock,
That I couldn’t disappoint my father,
That lots people love me for,
Love me too much for me to end it all,
That I’m worth it,
That I’m strong.

I know all of this,
Yet I still question it,
My thoughts,
My worth.

I’m told to get meds to make me okay,
I’m also told I shouldn’t have help until I can do it on my own.

Instead I hide,
I hide the nightmares,
The doubts,
The pleas for help.

I try to be positive,
I tell myself I’m okay,
I force a smile ‘till it sticks,
And I carry on.

Is that why people tell me I’m okay when I open up,
Do I really need medicine to be okay,
Is this all really just a disease,
Something to be cured?
Am I just a mind diseased?

Moments,
Minutes,
Memories,
Thoughts of the days when you were here whisk me away.

Playing catch,
Wandering around the hotels together,
Late night talks over cereal.

I miss it all,
I miss everything we did together.

The memories reply in my mind,
I keep pressing rewind,
“Maybe,”
“Maybe,” I tell myself
“Maybe if I replay it enough,
It’ll seem like your here,
Like I haven’t lost you,
Like you’re still in your car just near,
Like you’re just watching football,
Like you’re going to text me back when I say I love you,
Like you’re just taking mom shopping,
Like you’re just grabbing dinner,
Like you’re just at the softball field umpiring the late game,
Like you’re still in bed snoozing the day away,
Like we’re still a family,
One that’s left less broken than it is now,
A family with a father,
Just maybe,”

Six months it’s been,
Six months today,
Half a year,
Six months since you passed away.

Time has flown,
It still feels new,
Will it always feel new to me?
New that you’re gone?

Six months,
That’s all it’s been,
I have the rest of my life to count,
Days,
Weeks,
Months,
Years.

I have the rest of my life to live,
To keep pushing through,
And now I have to do it without you.

-I miss you