What it's like to traipse the world as though no one is missing
someone important not where they should be, so I need to be, for them, to hold, for them, this space;
I'm not sure when the me I was got replaced with a sack of pain
every day again to overcome
not metaphorical, not emotional, not just
physical, demanding, excruciating immediate
a false urgency, a constant claim on my will
and secret, practically a secret
because if I cried all the crying and screamed all the screaming there
would be no life left in me
and I owe this life to the choices I made
