I still remember that house on the hill, there was a fenced in pool and another fence that went around the back yard. When we parked I always felt I’d roll off the hill, once we walked up the stone path we had to be careful not to let out paten and Baxter the two identical dogs I remember sitting with you on the hill eating lunch and talking about finding the difference between the dogs. I remember the one summer we came over we were sitting on the swing by the pool. A lot had happened that summer, I told you I wanted to join the military to make you proud. i remember you looking away and saying your best friend died In the service, then you looked back at me and said I’m already proud. That was the last time I saw him that year as the months went on your health declined battling cancer was a hard fight.

I remember showing up at your funeral the ride was a blur and time seemed to stand still My world shattered when I saw my best friend in that casket the ride to the cemetery was in silence I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I watched the scenery go by they laid a flag over your casket for serving in the military Then we left I left part of myself back there too

As time went on your family took care of the pull the my aunt tore it out it was to hard for her to take care of it alone.

But it hurts knowing all the memories are gone

Not everyone is wearing black. I thought black represented death, mourning, respect towards the person you lost.

Old ladies have crumpled tissues in hand Smiling as tears build in their eyes. All hushed voices, like making a loud noise will wake up the deceased.

Kids are quite, but they don’t know why. They play with the dolls their parents brought to distract them from the somber event.

Somber, but also a celebration of a life well lived. A few chuckles as inside jokes they always made are said in speeches.

The casket was opened for all to gaze upon the deceased. I don’t want to. I want to remember him as alive. Remember his laugh, and the way he smiled.

I was blind to your face, to the way, Your browse furrowed, and to the pain, In your eyes, beautiful and brimming, Blind to your clinched fists.

I was deaf to the words, That spewed from gridded teeth, Deaf to The pleas and the warnings, and to, The inevitable silence.

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone, “ you said, But I, so blind, so deaf and dumb, Cocooned in my own existence, Poured salt in all your wounds.

Now you are gone, and I, Am numb to the emptiness. I am numb, To the guilt, the shame, The perpetual self loathing.

Oh, but if only I could, Gouge out my own eyes, I would, Cut out my tongue, And shred my own ears.

But darling, no amount, Of self-inflicted pain, Will bring you back to this world, it can never, Bring you back to me.

They weep. He sleeps. Eyes teary. Hearts weary. I’m confused but aware. My aunt who’s a tomboy cloaked in feminine wear. I’m aware but confused. My uncle who never cries is using tissues. They weep. He sleeps. Eyes teary. Hearts weary. I’m confused but aware. My hand is pulled and I rise from my chair. I’m aware but confused. I am told it is time to say goodbye, I see no issue. They weep. He sleeps My eyes are teary. My heart is weary. I’m going to miss you.

Sorrow fills the air And black crows circling above The bouquet of roses In your hands

Do you know that I am here? Standing at the doorstep Of what used to be Praying for the time back

Standing waiting for them To fade to black To wake up and see You next to me

My voice breaks as I Give the speech Of early mornings And late nights

How it wasn’t enough How I wish to hear your laugh Best friends by choice Soulmates by chance

Fall in love with a ghost Ghost I wish to remember I hope you haunt me Everyday and I’m standing here

At your grave Standing hoping you’ll Come home And I’ll wake up

Standing with your face Glaring at me With love in your eyes Standing here hoping I can see you again

Oh No Oh No Grandma Died over her bowl of pho Oh No Oh No Why does nobody say What to wear on such a dreary day? A sparkly blazer? Or something I bought from a fundraiser? Nah I’ll wear my multicolored dress What? Why are you calling me a dullard?

Our hearts beat in tandem, pressed tight in a hug.

Just last week you could feel, my skin gripping yours.

But souls are not tangible, as im often a fool to believe.

You have left your vessel, abandoned in the ground.

An empty husk left to stare, yet destined to never see.

Those eyes once so full, duller than the wood.

Honoring your just gone life, feels wrongly premature.

When I still forget with a glance, you’re not now next to me.

I catch glimpses of you, echos of your voice.

Can’t rid of you so soon, leave you so easily.

You were my past You are my present But you can’t be my future

And for this, I will never forgive the world.

It was my great grandad’s Though I hardly knew him. We went to London for a few days. The only thing I can remember is getting my hair caught in a boy’s shirt button. He was in the row in front of me.

His shirt was light blue. Plaid. Button up. I can’t remember his name but he looked familiar.

My five year old self whispered “Sorry, sorry, mommy help me” As my grandfather was giving a eulogy for his father. And my father unwrapped my hair and pulled my head back,

Leaving a few strands caught in the boy’s shirt.

The look on my father’s sad face, remembering his grandfather. The look of my mother’s face: Support. My older sibling’s face: boredom yet sympathy. My face: Head down. Shy. Not knowing what to do. Looking up every couple minutes To see the priest’s hairpiece flop around And stifle a laugh.

There she is, my best friend, Now a stranger Laid in a box like something You’d buy at a butcher’s counter, Wrapped up nicely In her finest clothes

I halt at the entranceway Take a deep breath Remembering the times We’ve had - some good Some bad - hands atremble What would you say to me now? How would we twist this to ensure We’d be able to face the truth? But I, alone, gather my strength To face this one-human Mannequin

People coming and going. Black and white suits, and dresses. Coming to tell me words, that I can’t hear. I am confused, yet I know something has happened.

The room is big and the people are in grief. Little me has no idea what the casket means. My father picks me up and I get a first look her. My great grandmother lies in it paler than ever. Her arms cross on each other, and she lies comfortably in the casket.

I look at her with a blank mind. Was she really gone? All the times I had spent in the kitchen with her, making cookies or meals. All of the times I spent talking and writing with her. It was all gone and a single tear streaked down from my eye. My father brings me to another room. He sets me down and I start drawing. An hour later, we go home.

sorry.