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A Title for Tom

by Casey Promise Thompson 9 months ago in inspirational · updated 9 months ago
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A Dedication

Property of Tom Bradbury

Grief, like a thick oily fog.

Choking on, consuming you, glazing your eyes.

In a daze.

Trying hard to breathe.

The loss of someone.

Their words…..their presence.

Instantaneously ripped away,

from the world we see and feel.

Like a punch to the stomach.

Or falling flat upon a surface.

The air in you lurching out.

Gasping and withered.

Your throat tightens and aches,

like angry palms squeezing out the life.

Clenching your vocal chords.

Gasps of air - breathe.

An emptiness.

A void where someone once was.

Just moments ago they were here.

But so painfully unaware.

Your mind contorts and bends,

like the twisted limbs of a Dali.

Everything suddenly louder.

A silent scream and a shudder.

Grief, a haze.

Mind and thoughts numb.

Novocain into the brain.

Words of comfort spilling into one another.

Thoughts lighting up every neuron.

Words seemingly not connecting.

A flash of their face…..

Your body now bent over.

Memories forever spiraling.

“I wish I had said….”

More words of love.

Just more of anything, maybe.

Grief, like the drying of a pond.

Its secrets now soil and bare.

Life that once had a home.

Now shriveled and stone.

We collect all of the pieces,

of the person we lost.

We think of them in bits and fragments.

Scared to view them as whole.

For every angle that we remember them,

is just another gasp.

Another flinch of pain.

A bit of heart lost out at sea.

In the very beginning…

There’s not much to be said.

All that can be spoken,

is the melody of crackling voices.

Never forgotten,

will be our Dear Tom.

A humble and gentle being.

A true King of kindness.

As time softens the wounds.

And lets it breathe out.

We remember that he is still here.

In every whisper and speck of light.

A spirit that lived so gently.

Once physical and seen.

Now but wind brushing against our cheeks.

Or in a moment of epiphany.

There’s no right combination of words.

Enough to truly grasp heartache.

I don’t think there ever was supposed to be….

Because it’s something we are only meant to feel.

- Dedicated to Tom Bradbury (Tom Brad).

Vocal will never be the same without you…



About the author

Casey Promise Thompson

I’m a Visual Artist, Omnist, Wordsmith and Chronic Daydreamer. Most of my work is fictional/fantasy short stories and poetry. See more below:


Instagram: CaseyPromise.art


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