The Misunderstood

A selection of skinny thoughts presented in black dots on a piece of paper?


50. Answers, Answers, Answers

I came to your grave today hoping for answers, hoping for something. I don't know; my mind is a mess, a vortex of words I can't pull together to make into a sentence. As soon as I stood in front of your grave I froze, it all became so real almost like the passing of your soul was nothing more than an illusion and then the cruel reality of it all kicked in and I was lost again. Your death had a great effect on me, it's been nearly 2 years now and I'm still not okay, I don't know if I ever will be. I felt your presence with me today, like you were standing behind me observing, listening to what I had to say but I failed you I couldn't speak a word except 'hi' how do I get through this, please tell me? My mind is a prison a constant reminder that everything is messed up and I can't change that, my heart is sick from your absence, my body is numb without your firm hold, my eyes are vacant without your smile, my ears are emptied of sound without your laugh, my touch senseless without your hand to grasp and pull me through the struggles of life. I need you granddad, I always have and always will, I'm not strong enough to face this world alone. I came to your graveyard today hoping for answers and I think I found a few.

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