a small box of kleenex brand tissues spaced out evenly on shaky tables soaked with tears for fathers lost good memories turn in to disrespect for the dead in brains twisted with grief
she said
"It is just a pile of dirt"
"Fuck you"
just take me to my fathers grave
2 comments:
This is bleak.
Metaphorically or literally.
Metaphorically, my father has died a few times and everytime I have just been completely powerless to do anything.
Literally, in terms of respiring he's very much alive.
This post brings up feelings inside of me.
x
My father has a grave but he's not there because he was creamated. I don't care if he's there or not, it will never be just a pile of dirt to me. This really spoke to me in a way I couldn't have put into words myself.
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