I live each breath inside of your death Each second Each moment Each step …
And sometimes my life peeks out from your death, Begging for some attention Wanting to smell the wildflowers, or look at the moon in the sky
And most times your death attacks my life Pushing it down in the water until it can no longer breathe And it drowns.
Your death has weapons that I cannot fight Weapons that appear from nowhere:
Panic Fear Anxiety Heartache Pain Hurt Numbness Depression Memories Moments Time The past The future Now
Sometimes I think I may have won the fight or won this round Joy or laughter or times with friends will feel, for a few seconds, good. And then it comes …
The paralyzing grief The terrifying shift from living to shaking in a dark corner The heart palpitations or the mind ache or the sudden sobbing fits They come They always come
And sometimes I’m too exhausted to stop them And sometimes I just don’t care to stop them But most times I cannot stop them
For they march in like enemy soldiers Overtaking me Barricading me Locking me inside of myself Leaving me naked and open and scared
And then they come back again, the grief monsters Except they don’t really ever come at all Because they never actually left
But sometimes they trick me into thinking they have left And I attempt to live my life Smiling Achieving something Finding beauty somewhere
And it is at that very moment when I have heard the most beautiful piece of music or felt the crisp cool air in my lungs or tasted the most delicious fruit, that they force themselves on me and rape me with their cruelty and their existence …
They are vultures. Grief vultures, and they grab and they take and they pull and they poke and they push and they spit and they find me in the night and punch me in the eyes hard, then kick and beat and choke me until my cough goes silent.
And just like the most stereotypical abusive boyfriend, they show up the next day with flowers, telling me they love me and everything is going to be okay.
But it’s not okay. It is never okay. Because grief is never leaving. The monsters are never gone.
Somehow, Impossibly, Grief is my new husband And the vows will last forever As I live inside of your death Inside this War This constant, vicious war Living my life with a Monster.