It feels like,
Shortly after tragedy,
It's not unusual to get the message you're expected to:
"Pull yourself up by the bootstraps."
"Get over it."
"Just go back to normal."
But normal is dead,
And here I lay in its grave,
Staring up as the world casts dirt on us both.
Bury me alive!
For this change is too violent...
This path too grim.
I cannot go back to normal,
I can only feel the gorey stump of what used to be.














