grief

the grief is not always a respond
it can be a statement

on our first date, she came late with a guilty smile
with a single rose
with a scratched knee

she said with an excuse:
"i walked so fast i tripped over and fell
and that's why i'm late
that's why i have a scratch on my knee"

and she continued with an edge:
"in the beginning, i was ashamed of my scratch
i wanted to cover it
but then i thought
what the hell?
my knee
my scratch
mistakes i make
i should not be ashamed of.
and i want you to be a person
who accept me the way that I am
otherwise i don't want you at all"

my love, my best everything
how solemnly beautiful she was

"was?" he asked
"is she dead?"

"worst" i answered
"she is not my anything anymore"

as i remove all memorable things from my life:
as i delete pictures and videos;
as i give clothes away
as i give him the book she presented to me, so he can read it to his child

i free the space for something new
i empty myself for what is yet to come

for so long as i have hope that it'll come -
the grief inside me lose.