That Which He Has to Give to Himself

He wakes up
And she’s not there

I can hear his heartfelt cries in the morning
And my heart aches
But I know, there is nothing I can do
Death is not something I can make light of

What can I say? What can I do?
It always feels so heavy
I put my hands on his shoulder
Hoping I can lift the magnitude of his grief
But I can see the regret on his face
And the sorrow in his hands

All the words he wished he’d said
All the apologies he wished he’d made
But it’s too late

He rummages through her drawers
Her tiny cup from which she sipped water from
Her slippers which were always neatly placed together
Her comb which she took to the hospital with her
And I know what he’s looking for

Forgiveness which she already gave him
That now he has to give to himself

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