our words have never
meant less

scraped together,
                they barely mark this page

in the shadow of

her death.

we watched your penultimate breath
and thought you were
gone

weakly,
you filled your lungs
for a final time

and still our words fail to shelter us
from the pain you were in

every day we find something else
                                   that’s broken
so many scattered pieces to collect
beneath our surface