Poem in progress

 I wrote this a while ago, I think   but it needs an update.  The grief is incredible

Life is not fair

you want to scream

or drive

or slit your wrists

But you don't

Instead

you

Cook a meal you don't eat

Play music you don't hear

Stare into the cupboard with unseeing eyes

Lie in your bed

curled in a ball

waiting for sleep 

or the day

to come