Griefscapes

My idea of grief ending had always been very visual
I’d imagine it stepping out of my body
Dressed in grey flowy clothes that flutter
My grief
A hazy weaker version of me
Translucent with the possibilities of joy
In all it it’s glory
Leaving me with hope and sunshine
Pretty clothes, good hair
And some way to get sleep for more than two hours at once
But grief didn’t live up to it ( or down )
It rolled into this potent explosive ball
And sat down
Cross legged, made itself at home
It cozied up
Right in the center of my existence
Making friends with all my insecurities
And there I was
Nudging it to the corner every now and then
It is heavy now – armed with the weight of my demons
Grief stayed
Waiting for me to somehow make room for it in my life
Kept ebbing itself from the bottom of my laundry bag of nothingness till I did
There was no walking out or away from it
It was there – the coffee table of my life
And I used it
Walking in and out on it
Hold my keys, lock yourself – do not talk and(or?) think, you don’t need to
Rest my legs, stop running after things, anything, just stop, it doesn’t matter does it ?
Set down my bag, of things I refuse to share with anyone anymore, why would you do that again, are you crazy?
It stayed, wherever it wanted to be
So I now imagine it as a tiny little seed – or a very very tiny black hole
One I try to lose but just keeps finding its way back to me
One I hold on my palm
On birthdays, promotions and towards the ends of house parties
One that I think of while I dry my hair
And spend long silences with, doing nothing when left alone
Not moving for hours as I overthink myself to despair, hopelessness
Or worse, numbness
As I see it grow – piercing through my lungs, flowing through my veins while I hold my breath for it to end.
The very very tiny black hole,
Not strong enough to gravitate everything to it yet
Grief waits – like summer clouds just about to burst, any moment now
Lingering, but always there.