To love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs;
When grief weights you like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you – I will love you, again.
Ellen Bass
Grief.
Loss.
Pain.
Here, I choose to begin again.
Here, I stand and sing again.
Here, I dream and build for a world I may not live to see.
Here, I stand.
Me, the person I’ve always been.
Me, shaping destiny.
Words became too small to carry the weight of it all, so I let them all go.
I let it go.
The metaphors, the prose, the poetry.
This is all there is to read.
For now, atleast.
There is loss, there is grief.
There is joy, there is peace.
Living and learning, losing and gaining for the rest of eternity.
I waved goodbye and exclaimed;
Hello, familiar friend,
Long time no see.
So here you were, all this time,
Alive in me.
Affirmative Future 