grief comes a day late with flowers and candy from a gas station I'm curled up on the bed in pain, seeing things that aren't there, like my old cat my best friend's brother so we sit together and talk about the weather of days long past there's something sad here there's something safe here she smokes a cigarette and asks me why I haven't given up yet, and upon no answer, why I haven't changed the locks but she knows the truth that everything here must be stuck *in limbo*, and that I won't touch a single surface so that I can see the same room as I did a lifetime ago, and that I let myself feel the grief because it's the only kind of love I have left
