The Wall

I keep making room for someone who is not coming back. The grocery store is full of items that still belong to a life with two adults making plans. I know all the account numbers now and I would trade every one of them for one more boring Tuesday. The house sounds wrong without her footsteps finding me. I am angry at every healthy person talking to me about efficiency. Sometimes grief looks like school pickup and pretending my face is not breaking in public.

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