I want to not take myself so seriously
I want to turn my grief into a purple flowy dress
(and show it off at the grocery market)

I want to enjoy an apple
again
Instead of munching on it
in pain

I want to write
to write
Not to spit words
for fake deadlines

I want the sunlight to expose my heart
And the brightness to not tear me apart

But right now,
I’m mixing tequila with gin
Seeing flowers, without being able to smell them
Smiling – albeit, fakely – seems like a sin

A time will come
when all my wants will not make me haunt

But today,
Today your absence is clinging to me like a second layer of skin
I’m unable to make my bed
I’m unable to feel my chin.