I. You will crumble in inconvenient places, breaking down over a small sock on the sidewalk, toys left in the parking lot, and things so beautiful they will break your heart. 2 You will wake up to the cries of a ghost in the middle of the night, your heart hearing the truth before the deafening silence hits your ears.
II. Your mama will smooth your hair and tell you time will ease the pain. 2 Time stands still and 3 the pain settles carving out a home in your chest. 4 You become defined by what you lost and how you choose to heal: nights spent staring at starry sky paintings on the walls of an empty nursery.
III. Slowly, slowly time ticks forward again, a second, a minute, an hour, eventually your life becomes full days and weeks again. 2 Your heart still wakes you at 4am, but the ghost is more of a comfort now. 3 The pain's still burrowed in your chest, but gardens grow out of the grief and winter and snowdrops and aconite begin pushing through. 4 There is no wisdom or peace to navigate you through and serenity flat-lined when the
IV. walked out with the news, but healing grows with the snowdrops, pushing its way through the last frost of winter.
YOU ARE READING
Dancing with Ghosts
PoetryA collection of poems coping with the juxtaposition of grief and beauty, pain and nostalgia, heart ache and celebrations. From breakups to losing a child, a parent, a friend, a sibling, I hope this little collection of poems helps someone out there...
