GriefIn the night I brush my teeth with a razor

I am no longer ashamed how for weeks, after, I wanted to be dead--not to die, mind you, or do myself in--but to be there already, walking amongst all those I'd lost, to join the throng singing, if that's what there is-- or the nothing, the gnawing--So be it.

May God or whoever else spare you the arms of bereavement specialists-- grant mercy from the Team dedicated to your transition in this difficult time yet who won't tell you a thing & know far less.

The day will come when you'll be dead longer than alive--thankfully not soon.

It's hard beinghuman.