Grief poetry


Hi, folks.

It’s strange – many people who have suffered a real world loss  have talked extensively about being worried by the question of when  represents the ‘appropriate’  time to dispose of loved ones’ clothes. The cyberloss equivalent of that, for me anyway, seems to be imagining garments to describe the way this particular type of grief feels to me. I was writing in my diary just now, and this came out.

The Cloak

I am wrapped in a cloak
Nobody else can see it
But I know it’s there.

Sometimes I am lucky,
Because it lifts when I laugh
Or sing.

You’d say I am mad for loving her.
Am I then mad
If I wish to spend the rest of my days
Laughing and singing?

The final verse of this piece is especially addressed to those who don’t understand, could never really comprehend the experience I had when I knew Chris, and the experience I have endured since her death. I can only hope that one sweet day, we will no longer face the difficulty of grieving a loss which is not publicly understood or acknowledged. If you’re interested in reading more poetry I’ve written on the subject, check these out.

Wishing you all peace and strength, as ever, on your journeys

 

Advertisements

About Casey Bottono

I am in love with language. I write poetry and fiction in a wide variety of genres. Most recently, I have been shortlisted as a finalist in the Coalition of Texans with Disabilities' Pen2Paper contest.
This entry was posted in anniversaries, anticipation, Chris, commemoration, coping-with-grief, poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

I love it when you share your thoughts- so feel free.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s