Grief at 3 A.M.
Joia Bullock

Death is life’s cruel joke that no one finds funny
How do you expect me to exist in a world when I keep losing people
who loved me?
I hear the wind chimes that carry their voice
But I’ll never hear them speak again
My mind’s supposed to be a capsule that holds all of the memories of
them

These memories slowly become a broken record
But I’ll never change the song
Even when the record scratches
I’ll keep running it back
I hate this song
But I’ll never stop listening
What happens when the record can’t play anymore?

Am I supposed to hum the song in my mind?
What happens when I lose the tune?
What happens when I can’t rewind?

I can’t reach heaven with just my fingertips
I can’t talk to the wind chimes without looking like a lunatic
So I laugh
At life’s cruel joke

A song
In the windchimes

A record
That plays over and over

A record that will scratch
A song I will hum in my mind
A tune I will lose
One day I can’t rewind
On that day
Life will laugh away with everything that was mine