Loss is a blanket that settles slowly down
and numbs you from the rest of the world.
Grief is your perfume in which I slowly drown
And your favorite Crown Royal, in a glass that I swirled
around for hours because I am too young to drink it.
Denial is the screaming in my head that you aren’t really gone
because I have never known life without you.
Depression is sleepiness prolonged
because if life is so short then I have nothing to do
and I don’t want to do anything if you aren’t here to see it.
I don’t know where you are, or where I am.
The Christmas cactus you gave me is on my nightstand,
the picture of us is on my desk,
but the smiles you gave me are nowhere near my lips.
I guess they died with the both of us.