A loss of laughter
Jordyn Taylor
And when we lost your laugh, the rain
poured as if the sun had passed too.
Gray clouds, impending doom. I’m lost without
the light, mirroring the loss of you.
Don’t cry for the pain, cry only
for the memories, they say,
but who’s to say I don’t cry for both.
A box of ashes stained with
tears. No funeral for the sadness,
six feet under lies the grief within me
instead of you. Shovel soot instead of dirt.
A laugh as light as yours deserves to be
engulfed by the sun, not shoved down below the
surface. Shed your light down on me again. Please,
when we meet again, kiss both cheeks
in celebration of life, love,
light up the room, scream from the heavens,
echo off the balcony and through the gates.
Are you watching? Guardian angel? Do angels
really make rainbows? Make mine a double.
And when we think of you, sunlight shines through
the window and everything is silent. I hear the laugh
ringing in my ears, a constant sound, never forget,
No. Nobody forgets what sunlight looks like,
even after it’s disappeared for a while.
Soon we’ll meet again in the rays of you.