As I mutter to myself,
In my cold, dark, quiet room;
I say "You are so stupid."
I ask "what made you like this,
This shrivelling child,
Who can't just speak her mind?"
I wonder why I am like this,
This sadness that fills my heart,
It is so potent,
So full of grief.
The anniversary, of your absence,
will soon be before me.
How will I treat such a day?
The day, unlike any other,
The day my soul sank lower,
Lower than any low before it.
The day I lost him,
Was one of my worst,
And a series of bad ones followed.
So as I am still in mourning for you,
I pray I make it through, missing you.