(Not) Making sense of a death

Trite platitudes make me angry
"time heals" it makes me sick
I want to kick
"kids wont suffer much"
I just want to punch
they say "I understand"
this I cant stand
"You need to get out"
Now I SCREAM AND SHOUT
so they really know
what this is, what I am about
so they begin to grasp
something happened
it should not could not
was never in my plans

Now to live or to die inside
is a choice I make
second by second
day by day
to join my love or stay
and give my love
to our children
such a part of our love
I struggle and inside
tearing torment reigns
how can they say such things
I treat inwardly with such disdain
it leaves me cold all my power
keeping me in control
shaking inside
I rage against it all