7 Days Later- a sonnet

7 Days Later

I wore your clothes for the rest of the week,

even your baggy floral underwear.

I wore your bathrobe, hoping to be clean,

I licked the dirt of all the silverware.

I looked at every possibility

so stop the condolence calls and free meals.

I spoke in sounds, howls, and hostility.

So I ate cherry steams and lemon peels,

quit reading, locked every door behind me.

Slowly, I untied my shoes, not sure yet what to do. Now I spend nights quietly

trying to not remember or forget.

How long can a child be a child without her mother to guide her?



This poem is about: 
My family


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741