The Trauma of Closing the Lid of the Casket
This is it.
The casket lid begins to quietly close
Your insides open and yell.
Your memories are now all you have.
There will be nothing new.
Your last look, your last touch
The beginning of your tears.
This is it.
Beliefs attempt to comfort
You cling to thoughts of a future hope
You will see them again.
Or.
Is this it?
The lid shuts.
You grab for something stable
You find an arm,
A hand
A hug.
A family member
A friend.
Two broken trees fall into each other
And hold up the other.
“Control it”, you tell yourself.
Forces beyond you like seismic shifts
Destroy what was once normal
Landscape rendered
Buildings destroyed
Death is creating the new normal
Tears wiped with waiting tissue
The lid is closed.
This is it.
