it takes and takes and takes
grief
by the fistful
grabbing handfuls of stomach,
liver, lungs
it is enraged beyond telling
that I will not be moved
that my body remains
upright
unbroken, and mine
everything inside is crumbling
and here I am
lifting the corners of my mouth
waking in the morning
always with you
and always without you
Tag: grief poetry
a simple question
why is the sun red?
is it tired?
concealed?
angry?
is it dying?
Siena Rose 