to grieve the loss of someone alive
makes me wish i were dead
facing fears we once faced together
i face alone instead
the unthinkable had to happen
though it'd been a long time coming
now the dust has settled
i'm no longer left wandering
i couldn't say goodbye
i couldn't even look at your face
the hole left in my chest
is such a hollow space
it was the opening of a door
that was meant for my way out
the one i had refused to open
i'm now being pushed out

i've seen four stages of grief
up until this moment
and now the only one left is
acceptance
it isn't any less hurtful than the other four
and i've return like a stray
staring at the door

but it's not to be opened anymore.

the line
   between
life and death

   split seconds

the bloodless face
does not respond
to questions
asked too late

in awe
we bow
to the rules of life

realizing
the limits

acknowledging
the truth of the ancients

about
how to cope
with dying

Two words
Ten letters
Three syllables
Caused me more tears than I can count

One day
24 hours
1,440 minutes
Was the short amount of time
That it took for everything to change

Almost 15 years
179 months
128,880 hours
Of knowing you was taken away from me with

Two words
Ten letters
Three syllables

"Mommy's gone"

Grief is a lot like the ocean
Calm and still, everything is fine. Acceptance. I gaze upon and see the good memories like the sun rising on the horizon

Until the waves start crashing
Pulling me under and I cannot breathe, think, move as I gasp for air.

So quickly the tide changes, in a blink of an eye everything I've lost is staring back at me while the violent storm brews and I can't seem to resurface again

Until the next storm...

Father, father
Help me
Send your guidance from above.

Cause I need you now
I can no longer wait.
It seems like forever
Since you've been gone
Over time my heart has healed
But the void in my heart beats to a different tune to
That person I was

You know I never thought I'd say this
But im jealous...
...of the life you now live
Maybe one day I'll get to walk with you again
Talk with you again

I'll see you in time...
...Happy Birthday Grandad

The silence is deafening.
You are just getting settled
In your new ghostly home.
But it is the first day of winter
and I cannot remember a winter
without you.
So I talk to your empty chair.
Your book and glasses on the table.
Even the pipe you loved
and I hated is not removed.
I breathe its aromatic perfumed
tobacco like I did before.
You never told me how sick you were
But  I knew…I knew.
Now wearing your old sweater
I call our number again and again
The machine resurrects your voice.
I savor every nuance and inflexion
the soft gentle timbre I loved.
For a brief moment you are back here
with me once more.
You ask me to leave a message.
It beeps.
I whisper
I miss you honey

In hard times, I used to forget myself ;
Caring became my escape from reality.
They weren't here for me, so I became their remedy,
The anchor, the one thing I wanted for oneself.

Now that hard times are finally behind me,
They don't need the anchor anymore.
Too content, I'm not what they look for
Maybe because I'm not available like I used to be...

And I still wet my eyes for manipulative people
Because I grieve my so-called friends and the old me.
I accept, again, that I've been used by somebody.
My heart aches, again, ashamed of having been feeble.

The sun tipping over the horizon
Lifts my lids each revolution of this Shady green sphere...
And for a few brief seconds
The fingers of sleep
Drag me back.

Warm pressure on my eyes,
Pooling, (re)opening them to the last
Paradise;
The only oasis where your eyes are not closed
And your bones are not dust somewhere
Mingling with the soil in Pittsburgh.

Just the same, I know you're the product now
Of some hypnagogic state;
Of the last traces of theoretical DMT swirling in my brain
As is leaves Morpheus behind in the shadows.

You're just the most beautiful hallucination
The truth in the chaos of dreams
Cluing me into what I've been denying
For 13 years.

Impossible that I've preserved you better
Than any mortician could have
In the recesses of my mind
You are a perfect replica
An unholy copy of the original
All creamy skin
And ocean eyes,
Full-lipped smile tipping somewhere between
Arrogance and joy.

"I'm gone," you say. "I'm dead."
Repeating what I already know
"I'm dead, I'm not coming back."
On repeat like the worst kind of ear worm;
A carousel of sound that dips and weaves through every filament of Unconsciousness.

Denial; like reaching out my hands
I shove against the reality, against the unreality
Against the prison sleep has woven
And crash forth
Damp and gasping
Like breaking the surface once more
Teetering over the horizon with the sun
Into the waking hell of another day.

The carousel makes another revolution.
See you on the other side tonight.