There’s supposed to be stages of grief,
a formula I follow
that shows me
the yellow brick path
to getting over your death,
but I can’t figure out
at which sign
I was supposed to have turned
in order to  move on to the next step
because though I started bargaining yesterday,
I woke up this morning
back where at shock,
telling myself
that you’re still alive
and just hiding behind the couch,
playing games with me
just like we did
when I was a kid.

 

NaPoWriMo -April 10, 2016

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