When you lose someone, Especially if you lose them when you're young.
The world gives you this narrative that you must have learned from this dark time in your life.
As though your grief took your child hand and walked you into adulthood with a new appreciation for how the world works.
That is not the case.
I understand that the world is inherently unfair,
I know that my time, and everyone's time for that matter is limited.
That you can in fact have a last moment.
Having this knowledge does not make me any wiser.
If anything it makes me even more foolish.
Ignorance is bliss, and how dare I loose that simplicity of life, especially so young.
Why did I suddenly have to learn how harsh the world is.
It isn't beautiful like the world tries to tell you it is. The dark is still dark. The red, the black, the blue...
These colors and emotions aren't suddenly beautiful just because I am broken.
I still get angry, and I still say things I wish I hadn't.
The difference now is I know that could be the last.
So I go through life with this guilt of nothing ever being enough.
Because If any moment could be my last, or your last, or whoever's last...
Nothing would be good enough.
There is nothingI can say that would be the best last words,
Nothing I could ever do that would mean the most to the world.
To you.
How out of all the possible options could I pick my last meal...
No there is no beauty in knowing that a last could be a last.
Because I know my lasts will never be what I want them to be...
Just like I know I'll never be what you want me to be.
C.G.
YOU ARE READING
No one is there
Poetrypoetry book. all the things I've written that I could never say out loud. Some topics may be difficult for some people so check for disclaimers .
