if death would remit me a question

my heart was a monster

it buried love six feet under

my body the personal cemetery for whatever emotions could break my hostile façade

my body knew loss

my horoscope mapped grief across my future

expanding at an exponential rate from what was revealed in the reverse of my past

my glower was a shield

to scare off any potential break in the waterfall of control I hid behind

I consider grief my identification

it has burned itself into every cell of my body

it projects itself into every story that I tell

it hovers like a shadow, following every step that I take

if I was prone to gambling

I would bet on the horse named grief to take me for a ride

because whichever way it ran, loss would still be the end result

I hope that on the day that I meet death

I will be remitted to ask a question

to wonder why with all of the borrowed time that exists

why death still took theirs too soon