short. not sweet.

I haven’t written for a week or two. Been riding the “waves” of grief. And doesn’t that sound nice? Even the word itself sounds soft. Rolling smoothly along, an easy up and down. And while I understand the analogy, frankly, I find it annoying. It belies the storm. Who, when they think of waves immediately goes to the crashing ones, the drowning ones, the deafening ones? The undertow?

loss busts you open like a broken vase

need I say more about the pieces?

still on hands and knees

nowhere near gluing it all back together.

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2 thoughts on “short. not sweet.

  1. It’s strange but I replied to someone’s post today about precisely that – stormy, crashing waves. Those are the ones that I always think of. The ones that leave the taste of salt on your lips even when you’re standing far away from the water.

  2. I’m not sure why, but the ocean regularly comes to mind when I’m trying to describe what I’m feeling. I guess it’s because I feel like I’m drowning, like there’s no escape, and that I just keep sinking. The more I sink, the greater the pressure in my chest.

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