Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
if hoarders build cities towers of trinkets at the age of six i made up meadows hills made of sweaters grass made of wool with flowers of checkers At the age of twelve it seeped through vents it pulled me in closer when mum had left grief popped up like clover so i'd open my closet and sit with her sweaters imagine those meadows grass made of wool with flowers of checkers now at twenty six finally i get it grief is my fabric before I was 'me' i was a stormy sea or mums knit sweater passed down to me from nineteen ninety three mums knit sweater cradling her baby dampened wool from tears as the war waged on she lost track of years smiling against fury covering little ears.
0
Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 1:12 AM UTC
Hoader
if hoarders build cities towers of trinkets at the age of six i made up meadows hills made of sweaters grass made of wool with flowers of checkers At the age of twelve it seeped through vents it pulled me in closer when mum had left grief popped up like clover so i'd open my closet and sit with her sweaters imagine those meadows grass made of wool with flowers of checkers now at twenty six finally i get it grief is my fabric before I was 'me' i was a stormy sea or mums knit sweater passed down to me from nineteen ninety three mums knit sweater cradling her baby dampened wool from tears as the war waged on she lost track of years smiling against fury covering little ears.
- They say one generation carries the pain so the next can heal. But sometimes I feel like I'm still wearing her grief.
Written by
26/F/Australia
Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 1:12 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem