Your death
Is transforming my life.
My health is down the drain
My body is in pain
And my mind is in a far worse state
I'm depressed and a wreck
I don't sleep or eat
At least not the way I used to.
These bloodshot eyes are tired of leaking
My chest wishes to rest
And the only time I'm not shaking
Is when my lips
Are curled around a cigarette
And smoke abundant in my lungs.
Some may call it a mental breakdown
I call it grieving.