Monday, April 2, 2018

Out-pour Poem Day Three

Today is raw.  It is fresh like an open wound that hasn't even been assessed yet.  Bone and marrow are exposed.  I cannot see it, but I know it is there.  I am wretched with a grief I've never known and do not understand.  I know that I am not alone.  Others have felt this before and someone may feel this one day.  
When in the deep, deep parts of this kind of grief it is like moving blindly, uncertainly, painfully.  Feeling around, grasping for breaths, choked between torrents of tears.

Ask Why.
Reverberating silence will follow.
There are no answers here.  

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