today my grandmother reminded me that it was exactly one year since my uncle's kind-of wife died. and i hadn't even noticed, because i'd been counting down the days till the anniversary of your death.
i told you the month of may was cursed for us. i told you, while you were six feet under the grass, and i was ten miles above where i'm supposed to be.
we never were good at listening.
YOU ARE READING
the shepherd's sword
Random[the things we dare not say aloud] the walls have faces, you know. the angels do not.
