How do you measure the once-was? The invisible? The void?
*The ache in my heart is not physiological,
although it may feel like it sometimes is.*
I can measure the words I write,
the words that get stuck in my throat.
The boxes of belongings left over. (You can narrow down a person’s
physical life by how many trips it
takes to Goodwill.)
How many songs can I now not stand?
How many scents are now trigger trapdoors?
Shall I count the number of times I’ve thought of you today?
No ******* thank you.
Measuring is for the birds.
The doctors and
the scientists.
I keep reaching inside and pulling out my still beating,
but rotting and decaying heart
only to be told it’s perfectly fine.
I refuse to be gaslit on my grief anymore.
Feb 23, 2022
Feb 23, 2022 at 10:00 PM UTC
How do you measure the once-was? The invisible? The void?
*The ache in my heart is not physiological,
although it may feel like it sometimes is.*
I can measure the words I write,
the words that get stuck in my throat.
The boxes of belongings left over. (You can narrow down a person’s
physical life by how many trips it
takes to Goodwill.)
How many songs can I now not stand?
How many scents are now trigger trapdoors?
Shall I count the number of times I’ve thought of you today?
No ******* thank you.
Measuring is for the birds.
The doctors and
the scientists.
I keep reaching inside and pulling out my still beating,
but rotting and decaying heart
only to be told it’s perfectly fine.
I refuse to be gaslit on my grief anymore.
write your grief prompt 28: how do we see the gesture, the mass, the gravity, of the one you love, now that we cannot look at them directly? how do we know the shape, the weight, the being, of the one you love, by what we see in you?
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