a white shawl

a part of me would like to apologize; for the all unspoken words i’ll never say. in mourning, a white shawl hangs over my shoulder as I trail my fingers over the ridges of an empty casket. because the person I mourn no longer exists, in its place is a soul I don’t recognize. my apologizes will go unheard in ears once familiar to my words. a white shawl because the death of the person I once knew should be a celebration. it’s over. bliss awaits me, but in this moment, I will grieve. and wonder if a soul once like yours, will ever reappear again.