Grateful rage

A poem on receiving gifts after death

i feel myself
not feeling it

i watch my mind
throwing out
every excuse
as to why
i should be happy
and not
raging
over a gift

but this gift
isn’t just any gift

its my brother’s money
he left behind
when he died

and it’s the only way
we could buy a new home
for our new life

he would love
this new home
six houses down
from our sister

he would have
slept on the couch
and stayed up late
with the guys
watching movies
and cracking jokes

instead he’s gone
and his money
takes his place

how can one
feel so damn grateful
and rage
in the same breath?

i’m so grateful
i’m so angry

i want my brother back
more than i want this home