There’s this grief
simmering underneath.
Steady and ignorable,
or - boiling and unmistakable.
There’s no going back
but the grief is there.
Tangled grief for two -
husband lost long ago,
and a love that brought me to life.
Grief for my innocent self
that slammed up hard against his
mental illness —
and lost.
I know
the actions I take now
will frame life going forward.
It’s just that, sometimes,
relief from the grief
is so tempting.