For J.P.

My daughter says your name with a smile on her face,

Not knowing it’s a knife to my chest

I keep waiting to miss you less

But the need still picks my skin, stings my eyes

Paint from your brush hangs on my walls

Humoring me, our initials same as twins

It cuts.

You should be here teaching me everything you know

All those times sweet turned bitter

Because it was missing your smile

Your joy

Your pride

You left this world but have yet to leave my mind

My life will always be less than

What I want it to be

Because I want it to be with you

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9 thoughts on “For J.P.

  1. Beautiful, friend. I am sorry for the hurt :(
    I haven’t had to go through this so much yet. My dad’s mom passed away when I was younger, but we were not as close, so it didn’t hurt as bad.

    1. She died when I was in second grade so it’s been a while. It’s just, Em found a picture of her and I started talking to her about her and it got to me

  2. I love this poem, and how heartfelt it is. Honest poetry is the best poetry, and what stings the most, to me anyway, is that you have always had a closer connection to her than i have, for various reasons, not least because of the painting/arts-and-crafts connection. I’m glad you wrote this.

    1. It’s interesting how that works since you’re old enough to remember more about her. I’m glad we both had her for the small time we did.

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