Picking up the shards of my heart and soul

This doesn't fit any of the types of writing so I'm going with poem. It's simply a piece of myself I've been picking at, like a scab. I simply must push it out and away.

Sometimes my sister flutters into my mind so effortlessly. I'm surprised she's suddenly there when I had just been thinking about something menial. 

Other times she drops in with a heavy crash like crazed cymbals, inflaming my brain and restricting my chest. 

Then there are times when it is a conscious thought and I'm aware from the beginning of the cold hard truth: Jescie would love this but she's dead. I just wish I could call my sister, she would know what to do. My big sister would be so proud of me right now if she were here....

It's a cold and dark empty spot of my life now. That nagging, sickly feeling where you just want to square up with reality, give it a good blow and show it how wrong it is but you can't fight death. Death champions us all and now it has my sister. Death never gives, it only takes. It is so final it threatens to break me all the time. It's not a monster you can conquer but a part of life you can only try to accept for your own sake. 

The loud goofy bursts of laughter, the boho beauty, the generous spirit, the dog-loving, stranger to no one, feisty little 4'11 go-getter that was my sister; well, I struggle to accept that she is just gone now. But there is light, not nearly as bright as before, she still affects my life. I still aim to make her proud and she still encourages me to be a better person and in this hectic world, this fleeting life, that is truly beautiful.

Author's Note

I'm not looking for critiques on this one but if you wish to, feel free. My goal here is a search for connection in my grief and to plant a seed of my sister whom I miss terribly.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Has the sound of one recently bereaved. The wound has not healed yet, but the speaker is bearing up as well as can be expected. Only time can provide healing in such circumstances. But it will surely come. A very moving piece.