Teta, I bought black clothes today

I didn’t want to. But they said I have to.

They said if anything happens to you I should have a bag with my clothes ready.

But I know you hate black on me.

I never wore it without escaping from your comment “why all that black, we’re not at a funeral.”

I’m scared of being at your funeral.

You never let me go to those things. You used to tell me mourning is just for old people and that the young just mourn in their hearts.

Right now, I’m mourning my heart teta.

I wanted to tell them you wouldn’t let me see you like that and that you wouldn’t let me wear black but I didn’t want to upset anyone.

I know that I should be praying for you to rest, but I cheat some nights and pray that you stay here with us.

There’s so much more of life I want to share with you.

Teta I never told you but every time I randomly ran to you for an impromptu sleepover was because I’d probably done something wrong.

I’d run to you because I believed that everything is forgiven as long as a grandmother prays for you.

I saw you last week and asked you to pray for me but you weren’t there to answer me.

Your hands held mine but your mind was busy preparing for an afterlife.

You told me they were calling you, all the people you miss and lost. You said they were asking you to not be late.

So you asked me to pray for you instead. You asked me to let go.

Now I feel trapped because you’re not here to forgive my every mistake or rejoice for my every achievement.

Teta I wish we could just pretend this is a nightmare that we can dismiss as a good omen.

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