grief stares at you
through muggy, distorted glasses
and offers you the same

it echoes through your body
as you scream
and shake your fist at Him

it is grief
that makes you sob over a piece of clothing

it is grief
that makes you follow a resembling stranger

grief collects
all of the 'whys' and 'what ifs'
and dances them in front of you

grief catches
all of the faults you find
in everyone
and everything
that could have
and should have
changed the outcome

whatever is remaining,
grief will proudly put on display

with open hands
grief catches
every tear spilled

it is with these same
wretched hands
that he offers you a place of solace

and each and every time
your body falls to the ground
unable to do anything more
than breathe in and out,
it is grief
that catches you

an uncomfortable accord