core of grief
archives series - a loved one lost in the pandemic
i have lost a loved one
with no place to put
the grief between my lungs
and the gnashing of my teeth
has only left room for rivers of salt.
home is a circle
with no ends to reach
with no curative speech
with no place for resurrection
a faint line of green with no beat
and every bone submitting to rigor.
i ask the ground below
roll out like a scroll
so that tears become ink
and lays to rest whatever is left of pain
sealing it at earth's core.
then i will walk
crushing head with heel
burying it so far below.
About the Creator
venice
i still write, you still inspire
based in toronto
*keep an eye out for poet's notes: the story behind the poem*
follow me on ig: @curatedbyven
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Comments (3)
My good grief
A pure magic!
great work!