I haven’t thought your name in a month, I forget when the time arrived that I stopped keeping track of how many times you crept across my mind
They say the day that moment arrives is when you’re done grieving 

Done allowing the sadness to seep in

Done letting the dead mess with you

Done living life with a ghost 

Ma’s seen multiple psychics as a way to still have you in her life 

number 4, letter A, books, pride, my voice
Regret

wishes he could still be by our side, living the happy life he led with us before it was so rudely ripped away

As ma says this I turn my head and cover my ears

The dead can’t talk

The dead can’t think 

The dead can’t wish

The dead can’t live

He says he can’t believe how much you’ve grown, your voice, your hair, your strength. He wishes he could’ve been there as you grew up

As ma says this I hold my breath and count to thirty

Thoughts of pale corpses

Thoughts of cold skin

Thoughts of heavy caskets

Thoughts of cold, January wind 

Thoughts of silence 

Ma looks over at me waiting for a response but I only briskly nod my head

The dead terrifies me, always has

Pa telling us to hold our breath and close the windows whenever we passed a graveyard 
They’ll get you and never leave you 

You’ve never left me

Hair tugging, moving things, whispering 

The last thing we talked about was religion, you ate your favorite steak and sat down for a movie

I walked the dog around nine for an hour, the night wind brisk, swirling 

wondering what I did to be blessed with such a loving life 

Death terrifies me, it hasn’t always 

Never knowing when it’ll visit

Never knowing who it’ll take

Never knowing 

Left wondering