Talk about your grief,
the councilor said,
don't bottle it up
or deny it is there.
I talk my son to you
about how I feel
about your death,
and how you went
and why you had to die.
It brews in me this grief,
this loss, my son, but you
know before I tell you,
you know the source
and how I feel, and how
it pains me still.
Talk about it,
she said,
as you have talked to me,
but how to unburden
and to whom?
I go to speak, my son,
but my throat closes up
and words won't come,
except with you, with you
I can tell all; but to others,
not at all.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
Talk about your grief,
the councilor said,
don't bottle it up
or deny it is there.
I talk my son to you
about how I feel
about your death,
and how you went
and why you had to die.
It brews in me this grief,
this loss, my son, but you
know before I tell you,
you know the source
and how I feel, and how
it pains me still.
Talk about it,
she said,
as you have talked to me,
but how to unburden
and to whom?
I go to speak, my son,
but my throat closes up
and words won't come,
except with you, with you
I can tell all; but to others,
not at all.
