Aftertaste

I sip the thought of you

like a heated tea on a cold

almost

spring morning

burning, but necessary.

The thoughts consumed me,

and suddenly

I could no longer put my tea down.

I found myself in a spiral

of all the could haves,

the should haves,

or perhaps even the would haves.

I started questioning things again,

asking what could all this life stuff actually be about?

I bet you think that I never think of you,

but the truth is, that I do.

And in the moments that I think of you, just know my ending thoughts are always

how could this be true?

In another lifetime or better yet,

a different timeline

I bet you would have been healthier,

happier and more stable.

And in that timeline,

I would never have to sit and wonder,

so deeply about my mother.