Everyone grieves differently

Some are able to immediately

Cry or write or talk about

Horrific happenings

I get quiet

Icy calm


In a month or so

In a year or so

In a decade or two or three

I allow the grief to surface

And find a way to express it

In poetry, song, conversation

Perhaps not the healthiest method

But my method

So please do not ask why

My keyboard is silent

My eyes are dry

My conversation is light

Grief is mine, not to be shared

At this particular intersection of

Space and Time…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




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