I’ve become well acquainted with grief.
I’ve kissed anger on the mouth
and shaken acceptance’s hand.
I wasn’t prepared for wonder
or self-doubt to be in attendance
arriving late,
staying long past their welcome.
Hand in hand,
asking the questions that break my heart again:
Was it real?
Was I ever enough?
Was I just something to do,
something to hang up when you were finished?
Did it ever matter to you at all?
Love shifted quietly into tears
long drives,
lonely nights.
Wondering.
Searching.
Searching for a place
that feels like home again.
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 7:20 AM UTC
I’ve become well acquainted with grief.
I’ve kissed anger on the mouth
and shaken acceptance’s hand.
I wasn’t prepared for wonder
or self-doubt to be in attendance
arriving late,
staying long past their welcome.
Hand in hand,
asking the questions that break my heart again:
Was it real?
Was I ever enough?
Was I just something to do,
something to hang up when you were finished?
Did it ever matter to you at all?
Love shifted quietly into tears
long drives,
lonely nights.
Wondering.
Searching.
Searching for a place
that feels like home again.