Bury the hatchet,

move on from this grief,

from the pain I feel

from the top of my head

all the way down

to my toes.

This pain consumes my whole heart,

swallows my soul,

breaks me down to tears,

and leaves me there

to fill in the missing pieces.

That’s what I was told.

It’s what I know is right.

But I don’t want to do that.

I want to read his story,

discover his dreams,

and pick up the pen

and continue where he left off

when he died.

I want to revisit the city where he was born,

the schools he attended,

the place at which he is buried.

I want to rewatch his favorite movies,

listen to his favorite songs.

I can’t move on.

Not when his life is left unfinished.

I will finish it for him.