Learning how to let everything be free in the wake of every emotion. photo courtesy of Hope Hospice
Despite everyone having their own unique form of expression, grief surges through every person because it is an unavoidable piece of life.
I hide in a glasshouse,
Behind glass doors, behind everyone’s eyes.
They see me hurting, they see my pain from the outside,
But they never seem to understand the fight or flight.
This is my curse,
This low, this hurt I feel.
The cold breath in my lungs,
That is the feeling of lost goodbyes,
Lost memories,
Traumatic reenactments from my dreams.
The anger behind my eyes,
The pain in my smile.
Are you gone?
Why would you leave me here?
By myself, alone, hating you.
This winter is colder than the others,
I think that is because you are gone.
You all are gone.
This time there are more intrusive thoughts.
Should I fight this?
Is it too much,
Some days, are better than others,
Some days, I think that it didn’t happen,
Some days, I see past the dark eyes and the long smiles,
Some days, I am okay.
Some days, I am me again.
But then I remember,
I remember what happened,
I remember the way I cried for you,
The way I woke up and realized you were gone every morning for weeks,
The way I noticed things had changed,
The way I remembered you.
The things you had done,
The things you used to say,
The way it used to make me be…me,
The way I hear your voice in my head,
The way I can not escape this hole that I’ve fallen into.
I lay in bed every night, lights off, burying my face in a pillow.
Feeling the sadness I feel,
It takes over my soul,
Warms me, entraps me, holds me, folds me.
Breaking every bone in my body, until I no longer feel the pain.
The pain of yesterday.
This is just a moment in time, they say,
This is something you can move past, they say.
This is something you can beat, they say.
They are in a better place, they say.
But, they don’t get the fear in my eyes,
They don’t see the pain within my mind.
They don’t hear the lies I say, the ones where I am okay.
The things you had done,
The things you used to say,
The way it used to make me be…me,
The way I hear your voice in my head,
It all replays within my brain.
But sometimes there is a silence,
Where everything is calm.
Like an ocean after a storm.
The silence of accepting that perhaps you are really gone.
