To Learn and Cope

You will wish to have called just once more

To have heard their voice once more

To have held their hand when it wasn’t cold

To have hugged them tighter the last time you saw them

To have taken more pictures

To have made the conversations longer

To have inhaled the scent of their skin

A scent you can’t seem to find anywhere else

To have written them one more letter

To have made sure to talk to them daily like you promised yourself

To have made yourself less busy with insignificant things

Because that math final doesn’t even matter anymore

Sometimes

We occupy ourselves so much

That we forget what is truly most important

And you think to yourself

If I had done that

Then maybe

Maybe they would have gotten better

Maybe,

Maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty

 

You will look at the pictures after

You will regret all the things you didn’t do

You will muffle your sobs

And swallow your sadness

It will go down your throat like vodka

Except it won’t sting your throat

It will sting the boxes of your chest

It will wilt and evaporate your insides

By just thinking of the last time you heard their voice

At that time not knowing it will ever be the last time you will hear their voice

 

Death is not a surprise party

We all know it is coming

It enters homes through the slightest entrances

Like junk mail

And still I wonder why we mourn as if it never existed

I guess death is a surprise party

You never know when it is coming

But Like a boxing match

You know they will punch

You just don’t know how hard

 

You will cry to yourself

And think of the gallery of memories imprinted in the museum of your brain

And you will laugh while you are crying

 

All red-nosed and beautiful

 

The worst part is on the good days

Where you feel so good you forget

You forget so easily

And you think they are still here

So you pick up the phone

With their name still on the contact along with 20 emojis

And you call

And then you remember again

And then you cry again

 

All red-nosed and beautiful

 

The person may be gone

But they are never really gone

 

You forget

And then you remember.

It is like carrying a baggage of lead your whole life

You know it is there

And it is heavy

But you are used to it

 

So you learn

And you cope

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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