Grief is a tricky, foul thing

It is never foreshadowed. You cannot see it coming,

No matter how prepared or strong you think

You are.

It makes you feel like you're 

Standing on a precipice, at the top of the mountain

That is your life. 

You're faced to relive the trauma,

All of the moments where had you known

You could have 

Done better

Been better.

Life is a fleeting thing.

So many heartbeats and yet even those are

Numbered.

No proof of an afterlife, just the intransigent belief

That there's something greater.

The afterlife is a coping mechanism. 

I'm not sure what mine is.

5000 miles away and 

I don't know

How to span this distance no human can cross twice.

I do not have a coin for the ferryman.

I have no way of navigating this

River of souls and lost dreams.

All I have is a pair of red-rimmed eyes and a 

Resonating lamentation in the pit of my soul.