mum would have been 77 today
but she isn’t
and she never will be

why do we feel absence
so much more than presence?
when a person has gone
when a heart has moved on
it’s like a knife has carved
a gaping wound in your chest
a hole that never heals
leaving you bleeding
all over the world
all over the close ones

i wish she was still here
the things i would tell her
no one defended more fiercely
with that killing kind of love

this is what loss feels like –
it is sitting in the middle of a burnt out home
the charcoal ruins smouldering around you
pretending the walls are still there
imagining a roof still over your head
feeling sorry for yourself
and sick of the self-pity
until one day you stand up
stop your heart and say
people leave…this is what they do
mum, this is me, and i miss you
but talking to ghosts doesn’t help
it’s time to move forward
savouring fragrant memory
as it fades into the past
leaving you on your own at the last