Mourning

This heaviness. 


How can I bear it?


It tears my soul asunder. 


My brain is full of “if onlys”. 


“What ifs”. 


Maybe things would have not ended so shatteringly abruptly if only. 


Unexpected demise. 


What if I had unselfishly given rather than indulged?


Should I dare blame this damned bipolar disorder?


Or maybe I can pull the traumatic brain

injury card. 


Neither forgive my last words to you, my sweet sweet cheeks. 


Harshness. 


Momma is so very sorry. 


If only. 


Would that have lessened your pain?


If I had reacted differently, given generously to you rather than them?


I mean most other humans. 


Or should I say robots, given the don’t have a heart?


Momma just wasn’t in her right mind. 


Obviously. 


Your sister told me it was my fault. 


That’s what started all of this sobbing my broken heart out. 


But maybe that’s a good thing. 


I needed to mourn for you my sweet sweet cheeks. 


I need to make it through for your brother. 


For broken others. 


My mission isn’t quite over yet. 


Apparently.

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