The hot water streams over my body, engulfing me…
My breaths become pants, then suddenly pause.
My stare freezes at the water droplets passing by, as I see her face again.
My breath removed, my blood gone cold, my heart drains,
… like her.
She is gone, I am alone.
But here I can cry, here I can moan, here I can wail.
My muted scream rises but is stifled in my throat.
Later, I will be strong, I must be strong, I must be the leader,
I am their father, and I must tell them…
that it does hurts, and that it will hurt for a long time…
because you loved her.
That we will be strong, because she would want that.
That we will be good, because she is watching us.
That we will love one another, because she loved us.
That we will remember her, because she is unforgettable.
But for now, I have the shower.
The water drowns out my voice, silences my fists on the wall, and washes away my tears.
But it does not bring her back, it does not bring relief,
It only allows me to grieve.