SimWritesTruth
I imagine grief as something we could dissect not to understand it, but to witness it.
This is a body map of mourning.
A story told through ribcages, spines, memory, and silence.
Each chapter is a part of me.
A letter I never sent.
A poem I bled into a diary.
A heartbeat in the dark.
Grief doesn't arrive all at once.
It comes in pieces lodged in lungs, curled up in ribcages, hiding behind your eyes.
This series is a dissection.
This is ,The Anatomy of Grief.