Okay

You are okay. You are painless. You gave the pain to us. We shall all shoulder that burden together. Shoulder what you had on ur mind for years. But now, I know your okay. I've seen the signs. I know how to listen. She does too. She knows, and it makes it better, but that relief can only take us so far. Are we allowed to selfishly want you back? Even though we know your pain? The promises you made can never be fulfilled. You've branded us, some visibly but all emotionally. Stay will us. See what the community is doing. Please watch over her. Allow her to get up every morning. Allow her to live. I know you are okay. I know you are painless. Now. Care for her, care for him. Care for all. You taught me that love was all you needed. Now love is all you get.

Can't Breathe

The shock of it all still takes me by surprise. I can't connect the two people together. You, the happy sunshine we all knew, and him, the pained, beautiful child. Is it okay that sometimes I can't breathe? That sometimes I can't put on my happy face and smile? I want you to know that I will take care of them. But who's going to take care of me? When I can't breathe? Day five of grief. It feels worse than day four. I heard of video of you singing last night and the pain came like a fresh wave. They say it's gods will maybe. But why can't I breathe.