what they don't tell you about grief is the after
the quiet after the news
sitting outside the front door
"I feel sick, I feel sick, I feel sick-"
Her shoes still where she left them
Her box of cigarettes untouched like a crimescene
what they don't tell you about grief is days after
where you'll wash your hair and need to stop every so often because you can't stop crying
Her clothes in the laundry basket that she put there don't smell like her anymore
and you sit there with a jacket pressed to your nose hoping for the faintest scent

what they don't tell you about grief is the messages she still gets on her phone
promotional texts about something or other
"Hello Name! We have good offers on-"
you'll find her shopping cards and wonder if you can still use them
She was your mom it can't be illegal right?

What they don't tell you about grief is that the earth still turns
the sun still rises
the world carries on