Grief
I have no wisdom
How much longer. That is not a question.
How much longer, I say it and there is no one who answers.
Who decided this. Who sat somewhere and decided that we would be the ones. Tell me their name. I want to know the name of the person who looked at us and said, these, these ones, let it be these.
Was it always going to be us. Were we born already owing it. Did my grandmother carry it, did she hand it down without knowing, is it in the blood, is it in the name, what did we do, what did we ever do.
They were just there in the morning. Do you understand. They woke up. They had plans for the afternoon.
Where do the plans go. Where does the afternoon go when no one arrives to it. Someone was going to call them back later. The call is still inside the phone. Who do you give it to now.
How do I eat. They cannot eat. And the world keeps eating, the world sat down to dinner every night of it, the food kept arriving on every table that was not theirs.
I cannot say all the names. There are too many. Forgive me. Forgive me, I cannot hold all of you, you are too many, and I hate that you are too many, I hate that there is a number, I hate that I have started to round it.
When did I start to round it. What have I become that I round it.
How do they keep waking up. How. Tell me how a person buries someone in the morning and boils water in the afternoon. I am asking it because I do not understand and I want someone to make me understand.
Is it courage. It is not courage, they would laugh at me for calling it that. They have no choice. Where is the choice. Show me where the choice was.
And everyone watched. It was on every screen and they watched and then they had dinner. How. How do you watch and then have dinner. They did it though. They did it every night. Somebody could have stopped it. Somebody had it in their hands to stop it and chose the evening instead, chose the weekend, chose to wait and see. That is the part I cannot get past. It was a choice for them. It was a choice.
And I am here. I am so far. I am sitting where it is quiet and the quiet is an insult, the quiet is obscene, why do I get the quiet, who said I get to have it.
It could have been me. It could have been me and it was not and I do not know why and there is no why, there is no why, I keep looking for the why as if finding it would give me somewhere to put this.
Where were you. I am not even angry. I am asking. Where were you that morning. You are always somewhere. Where were you. I used to know how to pray, the words are still in my mouth, they go up now and they come straight back down.
Are you cold. It is a stupid thing to ask. Are you cold, are you alone, can you hear this, can you hear me, I am here, I am so far but I am here, I am saying your name, can you hear that I am saying it.
Come back. That is all I want to write. Come back, all of you, it is stupid, it is a child’s sentence, come back, please.
Please come back. There are no strawberries this year. There is no sea. There is no you.
It is summer again. It was the end of summer when it started. How many summers now. I have stopped being able to count the summers too. Every year I think this is the year it ends. Every year. I am a fool every year.
There is a child being born tonight into this. Right now, while I am asking this. What do we tell them. What is the first word. Do we teach them the names of the dead before they can walk. And one day they will ask me why, and I will have nothing, I will have exactly what I have now, which is nothing, which is this.
How much longer.
I am so tired. I cannot sleep and I cannot cry properly, it comes and it stops, it will not finish, nothing finishes.
What can I do from here. Tell me one thing. I will do it. There is nothing. There is this, and this is nothing, I know it is nothing, I am doing it anyway because my hands have to be doing something.
I do not have anything wise. I thought I would by the end of this. I do not. I only have the names I can hold and the love that has nowhere to go and the question that is not a question.
How much longer, how much longer, how much longer.
And I love you. I love you. I am sorry it is the only thing left in my hands. I do not know who to give it to. I am holding it out anyway.