Where are you now, my little one,
And are you resting comfortably?
I understand that done is done,
But please erase this misery.
Why won't you speak a single word
Or send a sign of something more?
With you, my hope has been interred
And now I fight a fruitless war.
What does it mean to live a life
Of dignity and blinding light?
What point in holding out a knife
Then stabbing at an endless night?
In all my days, before this loss,
I dreamt my dreams in warming hues,
But now I count the dreadful cost
Of all that's been and losing you.
if only we could communicate with those now not in our world. I often find myself talking to my late sister and sometimes ache for her response. In the early days and sometimes now, I would emotionally beat myself with regrets. Why didn't i... what if i had... and so on! What we do, is all we can and that is to live a life and wear the pain as another layer atop the others. It is a wonder why we always feel so cold!?
Beautifully sad Ben....loss is such a funny thing, not in the ha-ha sense, but in how it can twist us to unrecognizable beings. How it can tear our hearts out to the point of never recovering. I felt your loss with this piece. Hugs-