Snippets of Grief

 I just want to hear your voice again, listen to you sing, or laugh, or tell Summer off. You've never even left me a voicemail I could listen to, you trash-sucking strumpet.

 You're supposed to be here to laugh with me at the audacity of some people, you bone-headed clotpole.

 There's a stone in my stomach. You're really never going to ask me to check your back, again. Butt breath.

 Summer's being rough and destructive today. She needs you to come and play with her the way only you can. We all need you still, jerk face.