Tag: grief

A Poem a Day: a Series – Day 103

Day 103: “Cheap Rings”

When we were at my grandparents house

going through their things

I found their 25-year wedding anniversary book

It was frilly and white

With a padded heart on the front

White ruffles

And lace

Plastic pearls

A product of the late 1970s

What caught my eye

were these two rings

They might be made of metal

Whatever it is is lightweight, thin

They were together on the aforementioned string of pearls

We had to get rid of things

But I couldn’t stop thinking about those rings

Before the book, in all its vintage bridal glory, was thrown out

I cut the string and grabbed the rings

For a while I wore one on each ring finger

They’re really pretty

Silver

With floral markings “engraved”

And “HONG KONG” written on the inside of the bands

The signature of only the most expensive jewelry

But they don’t turn my fingers green

I lost one of them

It fell behind the fridge at my old apartment

I was really upset

Felt like I lost my grandparents for a second time

But I keep the other close

Wear it often

Mostly on my left ring finger

To summon the love of my grandma

A Poem a Day: a Series – Day 97

Day 97: “Severance”

What if you didn’t feel loss

Well you did

But it was the other you

Severance

And when that loss came up

You’d be a different you

One that holds all of that pain

I wonder how heavy that’d be

And would the memories go too?

The good, happy ones?

What would it be like to sever the grief

Would it be like they never existed at all?

Would it be unfair to yourself?

Your other self

To give them the loss

Or would they be better off

More resilient

Stronger

What would that make you? Without the grief?

Would you even be you at all?

A Poem a Day: a Series – Day 80

Day 80: “What Do You Do”

What do you do

When your pet is dying

My heart is breaking

I wish she could tell me what she needs

I don’t want her to be in pain

I can’t stop crying

How do I know when it’s her time?

Now she just lays with me

I cry

And she’s probably wondering, “What’s her problem?”

A Poem a Day: a Series – Day 37

Day 37: “Stuck”

Grieving the living

Is its own kind of fuckery

A younger me

Remembers the good

The fun

And how to survive

How to placate

How to not cause problems

The older me

Has had the veil removed from my eyes

Knows the ways he affected me

Knows the pain

Can label the fear

But can hear his voice

Invalidating me

And the way he affected me

Making me the bad guy

But the scary part is

Part of me believes him