MULTIPLE CHOICE

Dear Mommy,

Some days
your death feels like
a calculus exam
laid in front of me
when I can only do
basic arithmetic

or
being jarred from sleep
in the middle of the night
by a starved
angry grizzly bear
tearing down the tent
while on a camping trip

or
an offensive comment
my spirit is forced
to listen to
at ear-splitting decibels
on repeat

or
being trapped
in a small room
with the incessant
low-battery beep
of a smoke detector

or
biting my tongue
in the same spot
28 times
in one day

or
having gum surgery done
without anesthesia

or
being shoved
in the back
and crashing face-first
into a pile
of glass-shard-filled dirt

or
steel-toe cowboy boots
knocking violently
against my temples

or
cat claws
being slowly dragged
across the entirety
of my body

or
I'm not strong enough
for this today

or
I want to
genie-blink
your ashes
back into your flesh
so I can rest my forehead
against yours
and we can nuzzle noses
one more time

or
please come back

or
I miss you

or
I need you

or
I love you

or
D
all of the above