It’s been 34 days since you’ve been gone. But you’re still every where I am. Feel you in the house. Feel you at places we used to go. And you’ll be missed till my last breath. Advertisements
Questioning life. Crying my heart out. Telling God I can’t understand his plan. Wondering why pain been intimate with me. Wishing mom was here instead six feet under. Asking God to hold me. When sitting with God.
It’s meant to be felt. Just enjoy And grow through it.
It’s a house. But it’s not a home anymore.
A short beautiful word. A word I wish I could call my mother.
I’d say enough dose of everything. Love, hate, and everything between.