Happy Birthday, Luke.

[brattibebe]

I glanced at my corkboard-
It was too much.
My mind took me places I didn't wish to go.
I tried to write-
It was too much.
There is no way I can ever let go.

I put on the pants-
They're ripping apart.
They really remind me
A lot of my heart.

My eyes are all red now,
My prayers all repeated.
Over four months you've been dead now;
My grief's not completed.

What more can I say?
What else can I do?
Will I ever be able to work all this through?

Guilt accompanies the pain I feel
Because of the greater pain of immediate family and friends.
I'll proceed now, and try to conceal
All the hurt, until I wake and the nightmare ends.