Grappling with Grief

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Abstract

evenings are sad- suicidal perhaps. they end the weekend, and the party I have with emotions, a bottle of wine they brought for the baby shower

the baby is long since gone, and I am left alone in the shower amongst these emotions that have stained my clothes- reminding me of an empty body, and a throbbing heart that I want to wrench out of me-

the way they took the still life out of me, and into the ground</p><p i

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d="89c5">©M.D.B. 27/08/2020</p><blockquote id="aa71"><p>Note: I wrote this thinking of a very close friend. She went through this twice. Her loss and pain has always remained with me. The only thing I could do for her was be with her. Then yesterday I read about someone else’s ordeal and this poem came to me. It is an unimaginable loss. More strength to anyone who has been through it.</p></blockquote></article></body>

Grappling with Grief

a sad poem

Photo by Author (M.D.B.)

My emotions are twirling, twirling, twirling, then uncoiling, like these clothes in the machine I am working for the past hour on a Sunday evening Sunday evenings are sad- suicidal perhaps. they end the weekend, and the party I have with emotions, a bottle of wine they brought for the baby shower the baby is long since gone, and I am left alone in the shower amongst these emotions that have stained my clothes- reminding me of an empty body, and a throbbing heart that I want to wrench out of me- the way they took the still life out of me, and into the ground

Note: I wrote this thinking of a very close friend. She went through this twice. Her loss and pain has always remained with me. The only thing I could do for her was be with her. Then yesterday I read about someone else’s ordeal and this poem came to me. It is an unimaginable loss. More strength to anyone who has been through it.