teresa

I wrote this with sharp music notes and harsh punctuation, heavy taps on the piano

I find myself

thinking of your funeral

and how it didn't feel

like you were dead at all.

let me rephrase.

I knew,

of course,

that you were gone.

and the five thousand

(plus 40)

days I had with you were-

over.

and since those days were-

over.

so were the one thousand

(and some)

days you were fighting.

so when I think back

to your funeral,

as they called it, 

I think of the days.

and in all those days,

there you are.

it never really feels

like you're dead at all.