If you fight with a dead man before he’s dead,

You can convince yourself 

That you got your way or he got his,

That he was right or he was wrong or either you were,

But if you fight with a dead man after he’s gone,

You’ll come to see,

You had a “me” problem.

And the only conflict you really had,

Is somehow the same one you have now,

Inside your head,

For he is gone,

But “it’s” still there.

And now it may be easier, or maybe not, 

But all you’ve got is you and your memories.

So now do you have a chance to work it out 

And let go of all the victories you thought you won 

And hard fought battles you feel you lost?

But is there better? Is there worse? 

Or are you a grasswidow?

A fair forsaken one, who married in a pasture,

And consummated there

On the simplicity of the green turf,

And never had another care in the world

Until motherhood?

-jenn