when grief sits beside you 6.21.25 (7:21 pm / 19:21)
when grief sits beside you
she doesn’t speak.
she brushes your hair,
whispers meaningless things in your ear.

she pours you tea
in a cracked porcelain cup.
lets you choke.
you grow fond of her.
you call her by her name.

[playing: impossible by clairo]

carry on 5.7.25 (3:39 pm)
sure, maybe everything is going wrong
it’s always been ****** up
i was just too busy to notice

but we’ve always got to carry on
carry on,
carry on, hold your baggage close
hold a suitcase full of memories
wear a backpack full of grief
they might hurt your shoulders for now
but these kinds of things make you stronger

carry on,
carry the ones you love with you
carry on, always carry on

maybe you’ve lied
and maybe you’ll lie again
but we can forget and carry on

maybe you’ve betrayed me
and maybe you will again
but i can forgive
and carry on

carry on
because what else can we do?

[playing: imperfect for you by ariana grande]

If I let go of the pain,
does it mean we never existed?
If the grief begins to fade,
was it ever really love?

I would rather carry the sorrow
than forget what it meant.
If healing means losing you,
I’ll stay broken.

I lived in a cage.
I loved it.
The bars were golden.
They were polished each day
by hands that said they loved me.
I never asked who locked the door.

I lived in a pond.
I loved it.
It was shallow,
but it mirrored what I wanted to believe.
I never asked for more.
The lily roots were enough.

I lived in a cocoon.
I loved it.
Silence wrapped me like a prophecy.
I believed wings were a myth,
and becoming was for someone else.
I folded in on purpose.

I lived in a bubble.
I loved it.
It shimmered with the truths I preferred.
No one could reach me.
No one asked me to leave.
It kept me hollow, but whole.

Now I am out,
The world is too wide,
I had made myself too small
to fit those shapes.

They call this freedom.
I carry it like grief.

Dad,

Thank you—for my childhood,

For the safety I never saw, yet always felt.

Thank you for being my teacher through example,

For guiding me not just with words,

But with the quiet strength of your actions.


Thank you for the advice—

Even when I met it with resistance,

Blind to the wisdom time would later reveal.

Thank you for the pain you carried in silence,

For the exhaustion, the tears,

Hidden behind smiles and strength.


Thank you…

For that towel stained with blood from a nose you tried to hide—

A small, unforgettable symbol of all the battles you fought

Without ever letting us feel the weight.

Thank you for being our shield,

Even when your soul was weary.


Now,

Everything is different.

I stumble, I fall, and you’re not here to steady me.

But your voice echoes in my heart,

Your lessons live in my choices,

And your spirit lights my darkest hours.


Now, I face the world alone.

And though I try—each and every day—

This ache, this longing for you,

Is fiercer than any challenge life throws my way.


Sometimes I ask myself…

For how long will this hurt last?

And yet, I hold on—

To your memory,

To your strength,

To the promise I whisper quietly to myself:


Until we meet again.

Man oh man, it’s been too long
Since I heard your piano songs
I used to hate them everyday
I’d rip my hair out when you’d play

Each time i’d take a bit to read
Your notes would play, my ears would bleed
They’d send me right around the bend
To loonie bins and back again

But man I miss your stupid songs
Though they’d have any crowd soon gone
To hear them once again someday  
I’d sure cut off my arm n’leg

I never got much time to sleep
While hearing your piano screech
Each time I’d try to take a nap
You’d give those notes a violent smack!

But man, I miss your slammin’ hands
Though no one’s ears were quite a fan
If you could play for me once more
My smile’d reach right to my core

Each time I’d ask for “quiet, please!”
You’d play like cats dancing on keys
Those horrid notes would never stop
Like nails scraped down on board for chalk

But man, I miss those melodies
Though they’d have made a deaf man flee
If you could spare just one more tune
Your notes would fill this sorry room

Man oh man, it’s been so long
Since I last heard you play a song
I used to beg your notes would go
But now I hate this hollow home

I hope you play still in the clouds
And make birds from blue skies fall out
Go, keep on gifting garish tunes
I know you brought them to your tomb

As the last of the flowers have withered,
And the guests have washed their clothes,
The cemetery has new bodies to entomb,
I still feel your presence very close.

For every waking morning without you on our side,
Demands a tough facade for every new dawn,
With responsibilities piling our plates,
I still hear your voice guiding us on.

At times where people have seem to forget,
And your space at the table has been quietly replaced,
Things and clothes packed neatly into boxes,
I still recall the warmth of your embrace.

For the world that we know will continue to revolve,
With the sun, the moon, and its skies ever so blue,
Your memory lives on in every piece of me;
I will choose to remember every last piece of you.

grief doesn't knock-
it slips in
wearing her perfume,
that strong vanilla scent
it sits beside me in silence,
and stays longer than memory.