the sadness overwhelms her, flows out of her constantly. She can’t contain it in the tiny vessel that has become her body. Bones crumpled over more bones, skin barely keeping them all in place. His death was sudden and purposeful and now her body feels meaningless. she focuses on getting her limbs to work properly, searches for strings to attach to like she’s a marionette now. She lets her pain spill out onto your kitchen floor, into your evenings, over the rims of your glasses because she can find no reason to try to hold onto and contain all the pain and confusion of the sudden, dramatic, and permanent change her life, their life, has taken.
© 2017 erin hoffman – all rights reserved