broken writer lashing out at real pain
unable to form complete thoughts
unwilling to consider positivity
undermining the unusual
in underwear –
her death weighs mighty
casting shadows on the silver linings
preventing me from seeing the beauty
I know surrounds me
finally understanding what it is
to feel like an open sore
exposed to angry air
bent on the destruction of my skin –
tears fall indiscriminately
while at work or perhaps
in the bathtub
whenever the mood suits
raindrops fall
leaving me to focus again
on my new found orphan status –
I see her face when I close my eyes
but not as it was
laying in the end of life care facility,
youthful, full of life and excitement
with a young son on her hip
and the world before her
blond highlights shining in the summer sun
in memories all days are summertime
all pictures are perfect
and all life is eternal –
sobbing anew
I sit, torn apart
experiencing feelings
not hidden behind ******
looking into the mirror
reflecting on her life lived
and my life to live, still –