Come let’s write
About the pain they know nothing about
The lives they never got to live
The absence only we got to feel
The symbolic empty chair at every function
The unsung soothing songs
The self-embrace as you chocked on your tears
The advice he never gave
Because he wasn’t there
Come lets write
About how when we say,
“Mama I made it”,
It’s because we can’t talk about him
It’s not because we loved her over him, but
He wasn’t there to love
Paragraphs from Inkwell 
Of the pain of coming to terms with the absence
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thanks for reading 🙂
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