Poetry

What Hurts

Lots of people say that when somebody dies, you'll get over it.

You don't. 

You see, grief works in a strange way - it hurts.

It doesn't sadden you as much as they say.

It hurts more than that.

It hurts to know that the only person you completely trusted won't be in bed, cuddled up to you, to wake you up with stupid requests. Like, "Hailey, I'm not tired." 

I used to get annoyed when she did that.

Now I'd give anything to hear her say it one more time.

One more hug.

One more kiss.

One more chance.

that's the way grief works. you stoop one day, another you'll be having the night of your life. and you promise yourself that you won't get over her, or him, but you end up finding someone else. you act like it doesn't hurt, when you know it does, and yet you carry on. grief is my luggage, what's yours?