That grief I have been avoiding.

I add to it still.

Tears locked away in attic boxes for another day.

Though I run out of room, I still have space left.

At least a spot for one more.

Put it on my tab.

***

The stress I am carrying,

Multiplied in ways I thought impossible.

Elevated by a different number every time.

Hidden behind a migraine and secured with a locked tight jaw.

I am not yet at my limit.

Put it on my tab.

***

The anger never seems to leave entirely.

A bottomless pit divided in half over and over again.

Microscopic but never fully disappearing.

Small enough to hide behind polite smiles and peer out from patient eyes.

I will always remember but never act on it.

Put it on my tab.

***

Those good days that were missed.

Subtracted from existence by the bad.

Experiences missed and events canceled.

Met by both resignation and despair.

Sickness a looping carousel.

I hope you put those good days on my tab.