Process of Grief

June 13, 2017
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You will wish to have called just once more
To have heard their voice once more
To have held their hand when it wasn’t cold
To have hugged them tighter the last time you saw them
To have taken more pictures
To have made the conversations longer
To have inhaled the scent of their skin
A scent you can’t seem to find anywhere else
To have written them one more letter
To have made sure to talk to them daily like you promised yourself
To have made yourself less busy with insignificant things
Because that math final doesn’t even matter anymore
We occupy ourselves so much
That we forget what is truly most important
And you think to yourself
If I had done that
Then maybe
Maybe they would have gotten better
Maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty

You will look at the pictures after
You will regret all the things you didn’t do
You will muffle your sobs
And swallow your sadness
It will go down your throat like vodka
Except it won’t sting your throat
It will sting the boxes of your chest
It will wilt and evaporate your insides
By just thinking about the last time you heard their voice
At that time not knowing it will ever be the last time you will hear their voice

Death is not a surprise party
We all know it is coming
It enters homes through the slightest entrances
Like junk mail
And still, I wonder why we mourn as if it never existed
I guess Death is a surprise party
You never know when it is coming
But Like a boxing match
You know they will punch
You just don’t know how hard

You will cry to yourself
And think of the gallery of memories imprinted in the museum of your brain
And you will laugh while you are crying

All red-nosed and beautiful

The worst part is on the good days
Where you feel so good you forget
You forget so easily
And you think they are still here
So you pick up the phone
With their name still on the contact along with 20 emojis
And you call
And then you remember again
And then you cry again

All red-nosed and beautiful

The person may be gone
But they are never really gone

You forget
And then you remember.
It is like carrying a baggage of lead your whole life
You know it is there
And it is heavy
But you are used to it

So you learn
And you cope

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