I stand motionless in
the kitchen
guess I'll make dinner
it has only been an
hour since
I heard you were gone
But I am already tired
and done
feeling
Shh I said as I watched
myself sob and collapse
You know that spirit is
forever.
Knowing didn't change
the necessity of sobbing
It's okay I said as I
cried after each phone call
I had to make
short, because I had no
words to say
She's happier I said as
I laughed
through my tears,
thinking of how overjoyed she would be
when she found she was
on the other side
She would miss those of
us down here
but her life was right
and she would love
being on the other side of it.
You would want me to
make dinner
I think, scrubbing out
the pots I will use
Even though you are
dead, you
wouldn't want me to be
hungry.
I cry again, the tears
diluting and blurring my red sauce
I guess my pasta
needed a little more
salt.
The apartment is quiet,
because
there are no friends
around.
They all sit and laugh
at dinner tables with their families
Unaware of my pleading
in their pockets.
Call me.
Their happiness is not
a fault.
It is an assault to the
grief I am feeling.
A reminder that life
goes on and someday
I will be okay with
that.
Now I sit, quiet again.
Simply waiting for the
next word, the next thought that will again
trigger the storm.
