on grief and the end

start with something basic
water, the tub

soak there and listen to your
housemate play the ukulele

your housemate, you didn't choose
a housemate.

you chose a lover

your lover did not choose you

start with something simple
a hug, a how are you

when they ask and want to know
you share

time passes slowly, i know
your chest aches
i know

you listen while everyone else asks
the questions
you can't answer

why, and how come, and how could
he do that

you sleep
watch the sun set out of your
west facing window

your home together didn't face the west

i know
your chest, it aches i know
ache is not a metaphor
it's the real thing, i know

and while you yearn for the presence
of a person who left you

you remember
you will never leave yourself

start with something basic
a plant, a meal

learn what it means to make something again
to grow
something again
all for yourself

it aches, i know
you cannot hold a baby close enough to
relieve the pain

start with something simple
a tear
a poem
a nap

you didn't choose a housemate
you chose a lover
he didn't choose you

you choose yourself