Twenty Years

Twenty YearsLittle brother, I missed your birthday—a week ago tomorrow.Prob’ly would have if you were alive.But then, I’d call tomorrow.But I can’t—cause you aren’t here. Death is cold. And hard. You aren’t here.Twenty years have passed;I don’t know your voice, Tucker Joe.Sheol swallows all our loves.I don’t know your voice, Tucker Joe.Stopping to Think is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.I think about Death a lot. Below are links to a couple of more normal essays - as well as some other, more personal, reflections.Are You Afraid to Die?A EulogyA tip of the hat to a dear friendTo: Alex This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit willdole.substack.com/subscribe