if death would remit me a question
my heart was a monster
it buried love six feet under
my body the personal cemetery for whatever emotions could break my hostile façade
my body knew loss
my horoscope mapped grief across my future
expanding at an exponential rate from what was revealed in the reverse of my past
my glower was a shield
to scare off any potential break in the waterfall of control I hid behind
I consider grief my identification
it has burned itself into every cell of my body
it projects itself into every story that I tell
it hovers like a shadow, following every step that I take
if I was prone to gambling
I would bet on the horse named grief to take me for a ride
because whichever way it ran, loss would still be the end result
I hope that on the day that I meet death
I will be remitted to ask a question
to wonder why with all of the borrowed time that exists
why death still took theirs too soon