Sometimes the grief hits at strange moments.
Hits out of nowhere on a Monday morning.
The dog senses it before you do and quietly leaves the room
Listening to your  old reels
Knowing what is gone
The difference you hear between then and now.
No matter how hard you practice the difference will still be there
Something in the surety
Something in the hands of
The way you used to hold the pick.
It is gone and will never come back.
And it hits, tears sliding down your face in a wave
And you do not like this ugly face in the mirror 
Bloated from unexpected tears.
You can grieve for yourself while staring in the mirror
You try and stuff it back inside
Bc they don’t want to know,
Don’t want to see you cry.
Cant stand that pain they can’t control, can’t take away
But it is almost impossible to stuff it back inside.
Once it is already at the surface.

So what is it that will remain when everything has been taking from you?