The poems I write have empty spaces,
The stories I tell leave pauses in my chest,
I cannot find the words to express you’re gone,
All except…
I love you, Mom.
Tell me,
How do you make someone believe
That the stars in the sky have vanished?
Have them look up,
With a wish that cannot be granted.
My memories of you,
are locked in a book left unwritten.
No words feel good enough,
The way your name rests on my lips.
Everything about you goes unfinished.
In that way…
I guess it’s perfect.
-Anthony Cerrato
There are no words that could encapsulate your spirit, so I write this poem to mark my loss for words.