Grief.
Grief is like the ocean.
It's deep and dark and bigger than all of us.
Grief.
Grief is cruel.
Grief doesn't stab-stab-stab to kill you.
Grief lurks up on you;
Like the golden dusk in winter
it takes the light away, with each passing minute,
it cools the very air you breathe.
Grief makes you struggle as you try shiver off the chill.
When your muscles burn and ache and clench.
Grief carries on.
Stronger.
Harder.
Unrelenting.
When you grow tired and numb grief finds that last synapse of feeling...
that one neuron of sensation,
and coddles it back relief... sweet sweet relief...
before crushing it under the weight of a thousand memories.
When you beg for mercy it mocks you.
When you scream in pain... it screams in ecstasy.
When all is done and you gasp your last breath,
it lifts the dark hand to slowly cover your mouth
to slowly cover your nose.
Like a coarse old blanket it wraps around you.
Tighter and tighter.
Scratching and squeezing.
Tighter and tighter.
Twisting and crushing...
“I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. There is no end.
There will never be an end.
Hope is lost.”
You break..
You die
a little.
You where connected.
When they die, the part of them in you die too.
But if you can stay the night.
If you can brave your the death.
If you can die... just a little...
The dawn will break and the sun will rise.
You cannot fight grief.
But... you can survive it.
Grief.
It's like the ocean.
It's deep and dark and bigger than all of us.
It's cruel and unrelenting.
Grief will end you.
...if you let it.
