Gone
I sat with your ghosts today,
pulled out a chair and settled in,
prepared to spend time poring over our memories, together.
But as the dust motes danced in the sunlight,
I realized the veil between your world and mine
has grown heavier and more opaque over the years.
I find it harder to visualize you sitting with me
and instead of a cozy visit, it feels like a leaden ritual
replete with guilt for wanting to leave so soon.
The vivid outlines of who you once were
have dimmed and become blurry,
like an old photo in a box under the bed, telling a story no one clearly remembers
but everyone smiles sadly over, when it’s repeated.
Mourning has evolved into acceptance. The vacuum of loss has been replaced with a silent,
comfortable, vacancy
that is filled with the peacefulness of soul one finds
when they have spent enough time with their grief.