What does it feel like
to walk into a home
that used to bring you the joy and warmth of being swaddled
delirious, but tranquil moments before a safe slumber

Everyone looks the same
smells the same, talks the same even
The home still upon its' sturdy bricks
You sit there
You try to act the same, be normal, be normal. BE NORMAL. *******.
Your words foreign.

It's gone and infiltrated everything
The suffocating weight of its presence in the air
It loiters in the roar
of laughter while we dance to our favorite songs
It sneaks into the tune of "Happy Birthday"
In the excitement of congratulations! WELL DONE. You got this!

Equally as present in the quieter moments, as in those of celebration
When everyone gathers in the living room to say their goodnight
          You find it in the fire that warms our cool September nights
It lurks in the familial embrace before a long drive
It sits there with you at the dinner table, mocking the life you once loved
Permanently staining each photo with it's awful hue

The grief of a death whose shadows still grace this earth, breathe this air.