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there will always be guilt

there will always be guilt.

even as the moon changes shape over trees that strip naked to seduce the winter skies of many hues and the waters freeze only to melt into a storm of grief as we embrace the beginning of a new year – there will still be guilt.

even as we accept your leave by picking out marble to erect beneath the tree’s canopy and etch your identity

on either side so we will always

have a place for you to be –

there will still be guilt.

even as we all sit in the silent

noise of our memories playing

on repeat as we sift through

to find signs of nothingness,

for you never meant for us to see

so at least there’s solidarity –

there will still be guilt.

even as I hide you within

every nook of every letter

on every page I ever write,

so I can always remember

the world we lived in together

but hope that people can see

the stark difference between

clickbait and grief;

that you stay a person,

not just something to read –

there will still be guilt.

even as I wrap myself

in colour again and

laugh to be heard,

and the world saves me a space

like a friend in a classroom,

waiting for me to return

whenever I was ready to face

a life after your death

and I finally take my seat –

there will still be guilt.

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