The flowers died on Monday

The week after I killed myself is quiet.
I’m looking over the people I love but they can’t see or hear me.
Few of them are hurting, others already moved on and some visit my grave every day.
I sit with them while they cry.
One year later they are fine, at least most of them.
It’s been a week since anyone visited me.
The flowers died on Monday but I did a year ago.