I buried my grief so deeply that I forgot to mourn it then, and now it visits me every day.
Reports, training, work—
were they all just excuses not to grieve?
Ways to drown myself in the endless noise of the world, to wear a facade convincing enough to call it healing?
April was the month I died,
and somehow, I have continued living ever since.
I have always been a walking contradiction.
That April of 2024 made me question everything—
was that incident a blessing disguised as a curse,
or a curse pretending to be a blessing?
Perhaps it was never about what it truly was,but about perspective—
the kind we cling to
just to make the guilt a little easier to carry.
