Grief comes over me like waves on the ocean. Its waves roll me under and then shove me back to the surface for air,
but only just enough air to keep me alive Before the next wave breaks and drags me back down again.
It is a rhythmic dance of hope and despair, Of light and dark, of breath and suffocation.
The rolling waves of grief grow weary with time and come more infrequently and so seem to rest for a while.
But the pain lingers, subdued at the back of my soul until A sound or scent revives it and it comes thundering back.
Back with an attitude of indignation to have been Left where it was, not looked for, not missed.
It seems to think it has a right to occupy my mind and heart and Sometimes it does, but only because I let it.
The song that grief sings to me makes my soul hurt and my heart ache Until my body once again feels his against mine,
My head resting on his chest hears his heartbeat and my senses take in the scent and Taste of his skin.
My soul feels his touch once more and the potential of his being mingles with mine In the beauty and magic of oneness.
I feel the oneness deep in my heart until the inevitable happens and our song runs out of rhyme once more.
With the rhymes gone the waves of grief for what could have been return to remind me of the empty shell I loved and held in my arms and heart.
The liquid suffocation that I thought was losing instead gains strength without my permission and
Sucks me back down,
Again.
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Grief has a strong undertow.
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It truly does, doesn’t it…
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