looking at the stars

i almost fall over

at the cemetery i felt nothing

i’ve had more 

‘spiritual’ 

experiences by myself in my own room 

mother,

why does it feel like you’re still not gone ? 

if i go downstairs that you’re still there ?

when i go down to the house you kept so clean and fashionable, things are untouched 

is it our late night conversations,

that we still have ? 

is it you, or my imagination of you ?

if you want to remember 

how crazy life can be ,

just look at a low hanging moon