poem

[tigriswolf]

.
.
.
Written March 8, 2017




Where does grief go
when it finally fades and floats away?
Is it relief, the lightening of a load;
is it hope, rushing into your soul,
lifting you up, letting you think,
if only for a single moment
and not a breath more,
that happiness might sink back into your bones,
barren for so long, cold and weary?

Grief consumes, ravenous and slavering,
until all you feel is exhaustion,
broken and weak, like nothing
will ever ease the pain, the emptiness.
But when it finally splinters,
what is left?
Hope? Relief? Anything? No—
—thing.

When the grief floats away,
where does it go?
Does it settle somewhere else,
take root, spread pain and fear and anger
—despair—
where before there existed something?

Grief subsumes, washing away everything
anything nothing something—
All.
Where does grief go when it fades
and what is left when it goes?
Relief? The resurrection of hope?
A trench so deep it’d never be possible to climb free?
Can relief sweep you up,
fly you out,
cocoon around you,
let you sleep?
Can hope warm what is frozen,
bloom what is barren?
What happens? What remains?
When hurts heal—slowly, softly—
When hurts heal—
Hurts heal—

When grief finally fades and floats away,
where does it go?
What is left in its absence?
Perhaps relief settles in, spreading
fragile wings, shifting
fragile muscles, stretching
towards a light, far in the distance,
a light shining softly, hesitantly,
hopeful—

Hope, the strength, the thought that
surviving leads eventually to something else—

Grief consumes, digests, spits out
someone you don’t know but
who seems familiar, similar,
an echo, a distorted reflection,
a was become an is.
When grief goes, a new person is left, someone
with fresh scars,
with divots,
with sore spots that will (perhaps) always be tender.
Hurt heals, when grief is survived.

Grief goes. Where? Away.
You remain. You remain.
You breathe, you cry, you smile—
You live.
You live.

Grief fades and floats away.
You remain.
You live.

Comments

[bugeyedmonster.livejournal.com]

Hugs.

[tigriswolf]

Thanks.

[tigremere.livejournal.com]

Makes my heart ache.

[tigriswolf]

Mine, too.