I sobbed over you in the grocery store parking lot-
I was just trying to get milk but grief isn’t linear.
And the loss of you changed everything for me-
Pastel colors shift into shades of red on pavement,
I scrubbed it off of me but the ghost of it remains anyways.
I messaged you to tell you I’m angry at you for leaving but you never responded.
I slammed my hands into the steering wheel-
I was so caught up in sobbing I forgot I was in public and;
You sat in the passenger seat with a hand on my shoulder,
I could feel it but I couldn’t see you.
Maybe it was my dad instead.
I’ve been trying to live without both of you-
Chasing shadows on pavement lines,
My mind traced the shape of you on the sidewalk and now I can’t stop seeing it.
A consequence because you never got up.
I sobbed over you in the grocery store parking lot-
I was just trying to get milk but grief isn’t linear.
Neither is the stain on the sidewalk that settled when you left.
