Home

Tag: grief

  • Sleeping Beauty

    I’d forgotten how hard blogs are. There’s a story to tell and I keep thinking it’s about Nepal. I should be writing about Nepal. I am supposed to be writing The Nepal Story, after all. So, why can I not write about Nepal? Dramatic sigh. I was once told by my mentor to trust my…

  • Lost Blossom

    There was a time when you mattered The last bloom On the Rose of Sharon Of The Season In which your spirit did not survive Another fall Falls near As the sky Or a petal from a poppy Or a child of God Did you really believe that? That there was a time when it…

  • Knowing the Dead

    In a sleep, the wound wept its tears Bloodshed Seeped from itself without knowing But I knew I saw your death a million times before you did But then you said In a sleep, all around was death, death, dea th You knew bloodshed Wept for us both before I ever did

  • Fight for Your Rights, Grace Needs a Vacay

    there are no promises that can be kept by gift we live by right we die grace is optional except when it’s not the grace to bear grief is sometimes always never the only prayer there is in these hot, breathless last days, it’d do us to get on with the praying sooner than later

  • Nothing There

    I went back to read your words But they aren’t there They aren’t to be found The website says Nothing here There’s nothing there Was there ever? If I can’t read the words I can’t be sure I ever knew you You always knew I was of flightly, flimsy flesh So why take the words…

  • beauty sleep

    When the petals died and the stem drooped, I slept Sleeping beauty sleep I awoke to gold Light too bright You offered me a dim corner When you drooped and died, Gold was gilded with light There is no sleeping beauty sleep now

  • Waiting

    She came into my life the year your father left. They breathed the same air in my world for 3 months.   For 3 years since he died  I’ve been waiting on profound insights. For 18 days since she died I’ve been waiting on profound insights. Now I get it.   There aren’t any.

  • Sewing

    Thread 1: Lucy saved me Tuesday and Wednesday from coming home to an empty window where Poppy used to sit, faithfully waiting for me (Picture 1). Yesterday, there was only an empty window and a slit in the curtains that Poppy would poke her head through (Picture 2). Thread 2: The other day I was…

  • arthritis

    the grief of loss digs in deep wedges between the joints arthritis for the psyche aching on good days screaming “fuck you” on bad hollowing out the hollowed out part of you who knew there’d be so many echoes

  • A Reader’s Purge: Binging on the Ruminations of Little Girls and Dying

    I’ve been crying since I was eight years old. Blame Lurlene McDaniel. I do. In the summer of 1987, I found death on a shelf at the Lee County Library in Sanford, North Carolina. I had been looking for those pre-teen romance novels, the ones where boys didn’t have naughty intentions and girls said no…