18 Years

18 Years

Today my grief becomes an adult

It takes responsibility for itself

It is self aware

It understands to a greater degree its' impact on others

It is less pained than in it's infancy or adolescence

These days there is less screaming

But the loss has formed me,

Like a missing limb affects your gait 

I am who I am because of you

And because you are not

For the longest time 

Memory was pain

And grief halted everything

But these days

Grief is fruitful

And my memory is sweet

With a sharpness

That brings focus.

I will not waste 

This taste

This aftertaste

Of You