Grief

my grief is not linear

i am depressed and then angry

i accept that you are dead

and that is something i cannot control

i think of you and the glorious mess you were

of how you could make me laugh,

and your bizarre love of animal documentaries

and then I’m angry again

i go through the stages

in a scattered mess

no start, no middle, no end

just the endless cycle of grief

thinking of you