If energy cannot be created or destroyed,
just change forms,
then I am born of grief,
If I am made from something,
I was knit from love after death,
The weight of memories with no place to put them down,
I am the care and adoration that dies in your throat,
The loneliness in a crowd,
The sadness in your bones,
The shame for growth,
The crime of happiness.
If I am made from anything,
It is grief.