In the face of profound loss of my darling Mum

I just cannot utter words like "dead" or "death"

because saying these words would make me feeling

too stark, too harsh, too real, and too damn final

instead, I speak in euphemisms or use alternative phrases

such as "passed away", "departed" or any other terms

to shield myself from the cruel reality of her sad absence

Places we used to visit with her are imbued with memories

I just cannot return to those places and avoid it altogether

since those locations are holding a very unique significance

the mere thought of going back to those spots without her

is so damn painful, so damn hurting, and so damn torturous

it is entirely natural for me to feel a sense of uneasiness but

allowing the evocations to remain untouched and untarnished

Her rooms she once occupied are filled with her presence

her personal possessions carry a piece of her cheerful spirit

I just cannot change those areas and remove her belongings

as every piece, every corner, holds essence of her unique being

this pure and simple act of altering her private spaces and items

it is a step I am so damn not prepared, so damn not ready to take

since it feels like erasing a part of her extraordinary existence 

I traverse this damn journey as I survived with all my might

even when it comes to those bloody words I cannot say

those places I cannot go or those chattels I cannot remove

as the damn unspoken words, the damn unchanged spaces

the damn untouched possessions are a testament to her being

since I cannot accept she is truly gone and would not return

I honestly cannot bid my final farewell to her for as long as I live