I'm not thinking about this;

I'm just writing.

--

I don't know how to explain it

The odd, empty

Hollowed out feeling of my bones

Underneath my skin.

It is as if

With the knowledge of her death,

The world expanded

Stretched and grew

In one moment,

Everything moved so far away

And suddenly

There was nothing to hold on to

And the other side of the world

Was more than just a 26 hour flight

And 11 hour drive 

Away

It no longer exists.

It no longer exists.

An empty, dusty house

Its walls no longer 

Whispering to anyone

It's floors no longer

Chilling the toes of servants

Who would much rather be at home

Than tending to a tired old lady

Who didn't speak much anymore.

It's air no longer

Holding the secrets of 

Countless childhoods

The echoes of laughter

Laughed 30 years ago

Still singing in the wind,

The feeling of fingers running

Across the staircase banister

30 years ago

Still fading into the wood.

It's empty

of life

It's full

of secrets

That I will

Never learn.

And so I cry

Silently,

To myself

Loudly,

To you

Consistently

Unexpectedly

I cry.

Because I don't know what else to do.