—-There was a roaring in my ears and I lost track of what they were saying. I believe it was the physical manifestation of unbearable grief–Barbara Kingsolver
It’s been 1315 days since you left me.
It’s been a micro second. It’s been a thousand years. It’s been Hell on earth.
…It’s been sharp claws scratching against bare skin.
It’s astonishing how the body keeps functioning— how the heart keeps beating— how the earth keeps revolving….revolving…. revolving…
…as if you’ve never departed, as if you’ve never been murdered.
How can it do that? How the
fuck hell can it do that?
Remember how much you loved this time of year—how you anticipated shopping and glitter and 5 inch high heeled boots to match your long coats?
How your Christmas tree overflowed with Victorian ornaments, white lights, fluffy felines, & homemade gingerbread men.
How cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples simmered upon your stove.
“Come over, Kimmy,” you’d plead. “You must, you reeeeeally muuuuust, come smell my house!”
I do. I do, my sweet. Inside my dreams. Inside my mindless mind. Inside my poetry.
Sometimes, even when surrounded by people, I’m entirely alone. Still.
That same kind of alone I used to feel as a kid when mom and dad went out for the night, or when I left for summer camp for a week.
How can I be homesick when I’m already home?
Hungry. Thirsty. Aching.
Sometimes voids cannot possibly be filled.
Sometimes emptiness needs to remain empty.
Sometimes we must simply live and love and cherish what is left behind.
NOTE—–Do Not Wait One More Day. My Sister, Kay, Did. Get Help Now. You Can Save Your Own Life. NATIONAL DOMESTIC ABUSE HOTLINE: 1-800-799-7233 or 1-800-787-3224