Your absence will be so felt I cannot picture it until it happens
and I breathe in the air of a room you will never breathe in again.
A good day often preludes the worst news. You were gone as soon
as I found out you were hospitalised.
Your sly remarks, and laughter that took so much effort to get, I always feel so empty reading that kind of news, that was yesterday and I had things to do today and so I had to sleep and wake up and sleep again, dreaming about telling family about your passing, it's always a confusing first few minute's after waking up to face the next day after a death.
I thought you were about to die atleast ten years ago,
You were in a bad state but survived and seeked salvation in the Holy Father and I do hope you found peace in his light, I hope you were not too scared although it's a side too terrifying to empathise with until you make it there or you don't,
And I'm so glad I got to meet you again and know you again
And you will be missed, you did exist and stated your presence until old age
and you were a fine old man with your own stubborn sense of care and humour and it's hard to believe I heard your voice just weeks ago
-but it always is, isn't it? At this point I will be surrounded by death until I die myself, so it is and so be it-
You were gold washed out by sunlight and buried in sand, as you limped and trembled with every step and sat and spoke in a burnt voice with rectangular spectacles dipping the bridge of your bruised-looking nose
Papercrowns and bad jokes from cheap crackers on the last two Christmas', death always expected and life always taken for granted when living in the moment
bored as hell and passing time that has all so clearly passed now.
I am not looking forward to seeing your empty silent chair, it all hit me today although I kept myself busy, but
I always end up alone and in agonising pain some point of the day or another
and I've had the whole day to process your death and every other death and draw all my same useless conclusions and hypothesis and rerun memories in a way to make sense of a person no longer being. So it is, so be it.
I walk through every day staring out head blank as **** and barely say a word to anyone and aslong as I'm unbothered I stay that way. I saw some traits in you that went beyond any blood-relation, perhaps that says so much more about me though, atleast if nothing else we could both agree: it was always a good night to stay inside.
Hysteria Hysteria Hysteria.
Written 5th March 2 0 2 4
Published today where we said our last goodbyes and his coffin was lowered into forever. God bless