Thirty-six days

Thirty-six days since you passed,

and here I am, a mess,

calling out for you:

“Honey,

Can you hear me?

I need you to tell me you can hear me.”

Fearful I will miss an utterance, I try to quell the cries.

But you are gone forever, and these desperate fantasies are self-imposed punishments I'm incapable of ending.

“Please tell me you can hear me.”

Silence is the sole response.

Defeated again, I drop my head, turn away, and time continues to churn into a future forever unfathomable.