Saturday, February 21, 2026

The Anatomy of Loss

How do you grieve, my dear?

I tried to freeze the nerves,

to shutter every window

until the ache ran dry.


How do you grieve, my dear?

I turned the blade inward,

then outward -

wounding the very hands

that reached out to hold mine.


How do you grieve, my dear?

I let the memory of warmth go cold.

I unlearned the language of light

until I forgot that love

was ever a place I lived.


How do you grieve, my dear?

I am a riot of ghosts;

I dance, I howl, I laugh

until the sound turns into a scream

and the scream turns into a prayer.


How do you grieve, my dear?

I poisoned the garden to kill the weeds.

I tried to logic pain

only to find that grief

is the only thing left alive.