Warring with bereavement ( fictional )
Her belongings and my happiness removed.
Loneliness will be here soon to take her place.
Photo albums and home videos will have a very long wait in the attic.
My soul wintering, in a house ravaged by echoes of the past.
Upstairs, a room I cannot go on crying in
or make my mind replay those intimate moments we shared within its walls
I cannot allow them to offset my recovery
a time for hanging on to my sanity
wrestling with its threat to give in
win over its damage repairing strength, no matter how long it takes
sustain it with inheritances of, a wonderful togetherness.
Will its future, survive, will the sun remember who I am
and dissolve this black cloak I wear?