Eventually

You bury your dad and fall into unrequited relationship with the ordinary. It’s what scrapes you out of bed-the things that must tick along. Eventually, you must eat. And if you eat, eventually you must wash the dishes, and after so many dishes, eventually you must get dressed and go to the store and buy more dish soap, where yes, you fall apart in front of the laundry detergent, but here you are, out in a world teeming with life.

You resent this-that the current won’t stop for your grief.

Then one day you decide to lay in the park instead of in bed.

Still in death, you’re coming back to life.

Still in death, you belong to a world without your dad-eventually.