Monday, May 4, 2015

What does my grief look like?

Fire all consuming
with an emptiness -
The world is upside down
until the sinews of my life
break like threads in
a rusty needle.

I am the one inside the proverbial haystack.
No one is looking for me.
They are all lost in their own
piles of straw.

These waves of change
flood the plain of our existence
making it hard to breathe
consuming all the oxygen
until there is only
the tightness in my chest.

I can bang against my chest
but no amount of violence
will bring back
what has been



voluntarily resolved,
returned from whence she came.

No comments:

Post a Comment