This is it.

The casket lid begins to quietly close

Your insides open and yell.

Your memories are now all you have.

There will be nothing new.

Your last look, your last touch

The beginning of your tears.

This is it.

Beliefs attempt to comfort

You cling to thoughts of a future hope

You will see them again.


Is this it?

The lid shuts.

You grab for something stable

You find an arm,

A hand

A hug.

A family member

A friend.

Two broken trees fall into each other

And hold up the other.

“Control it”, you tell yourself.

Forces beyond you like seismic shifts

Destroy what was once normal

Landscape rendered

Buildings destroyed

Death is creating the new normal

Tears wiped with waiting tissue

The lid is closed.

This is it.

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