An Unwanted Gift

You’ll always carry it with you,
The pain.

You can try to wrap it differently.

Use an alternative box,
Choose a shiny wrapping paper.
Secure it with ribbon,
Even glue on a fucking huge bow,
If you like.

But you’ll still carry it with you,
The pain.

Like a gaudy present nobody wants to open.
An unwanted gift you can never return.

Bank Holidays

Days off
are always
difficult.

There’s
so much more
time to fill,
without you.

So many
memories
of what we
used to do.

I’d rather
be at
work.

At least
there, I
get paid
to be
miserable.

The Loaded Gun

Time marches on
As I come undone
And my memories fade further away.

I try to hold on,
To ignore the loaded gun
As I trudge through another day.

Out

The days march on,
But I trail behind.
Out of step,
Out of place,
Out of time.

Lies

There is no better place.
Those we love don’t walk beside us.
There are no other rooms.
You will stand at that grave and weep.
There are more than five stages.
There are more than two parts.
Tears are not silent.
There is no peace or comfort to find.
Time heals nothing.
You’ll always walk alone.

And grief is like a fucking tsunami,
so good luck learning to swim in that.

 

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