Grief is this vast, open space with no color or sound,
just an empty awareness of no longer me and you.
The silence of your absence is deafening at times.
So much of life is this one-way conversation
taking place in a paradigm of my own creation.
It doesn't matter how much time passes,
when I find myself here it is as lonely for me
as the day you stopped breathing.
Grief sneaks up on me when I feel vulnerable or afraid
and it pounces like a rabid dog, infecting me with its' disease.
For a few moments, or hours I feel myself a child again
lost amid the chaos of life with no ability to interpret its' meaning.
And then life happens,
it is all around me;
even now it calls my name,
"Mom, Mom, where are you?"
And I am here
I am glad to be here
I just selfishly wish
you were here, too
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