god isn't real because if he was he would have saved my mother's soul.

her bones wouldn't be buried six feet deep at the age of 35 years old. her corpse is 36 now and she always hated her birthday but the date still lives on in my memory.

she used to say she wouldn't live till 40 and she was right. i miss her every day and it's absolutely shameful i can't remember how her voice sounds.

i remember the way she used to hold my hand when i was in the backseat of her car. but i can't remember the way she sang yanni or josh groban.

if i could remember the way she laughed at my jokes i would tell you that thought is more comforting than hearing "she's in a better place."

i wouldn't have to wake up in a home that won't ever feel home and i wouldn't feel sick to my stomach walking through the door of this house every damn day.