Trigger the Storm

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.