Teach Me How to Come Up for Air (imperfect thoughts in the throes of grieving)

at first I constantly awoke

underwater.

I, who cannot swim.

reliving

the horror of your passing

flickering in my mind

endless replay

                  mourning,

                  coping

                  and letting go

                  are a messy affair no one is ever prepared for.

                  much like

                  every

                  monumental upheaval

                  in our short lives,

                  one receives no guidance.

good and horrific memories are entwined

                 pain is a daily companion, a loathsome one,

                 but also an unexpected friend. I've learned

                 to allow it in. It has become

                 part of me like sinew and blood.

there are good days, and on those days,

I feel you in the rumble of your sibling's footfalls,

I hear you sigh and rustle through the leaves,

I see you in each face that smiles

kindly, vaguely, in my direction.

                                      watch over me.

                                      I never thought myself a strong person,

                                      but I was stronger when you were here with me.

                                                                   and now?

                                                                          I am adrift.

                                      you wouldn't want me alone and frightened.

                                      you would want me to go on.

I am not angry that you left me behind, but maybe I am more than a little angry that I let you go so easily.

seeing people

who didn't yet know you were gone,

but who loved you very much, is so very hard

seeing people

who don't know you,

and those who knew you well,

but who are indifferent at best, is harder still--

      it fills me with spite and rage.

                                        you wouldn't want me bitter and filled with hate.

                                        you would want me to live on.

                                                                many things had gone unsaid,

                                                                   undone,

                                                                but give me a solitary chance to utter

                                                                just one more long breath

                                                                before you are one

                                                                with the stars saying good night:

                                            I loved you the brightest.

                                            I loved you completely.