Grief.

I'm tired of it.

I can't seem to move on. Death surrounds me.

Every time I turn around there's a ghost. So many ghosts. Everywhere I turn.

They got out of it easy and left me here picking up the pieces of the lives they shattered.

And I pick up the pieces, and I pick them up, but the pain never goes away and the pieces reappear. And the ghosts hover.

Shattered lives. Fragmented feelings. Broken hearts.

And then they went and died.