Grief Stoned

Grief is a dropped Stone, hot in your throat
branding your vocal chords,
coursing between
arteries to lie in gut to rust
slowly
it will never pass through,
it is
undigestable,
inorganic and impossible.

Grief is a locked room at the back of your house,
growing dustier by the day,
with size eight footprints fading.
Droplets of paint have disappeared
along with floppy hats,
a vaccuum of space that you file away under
U for unspeakable
unimaginable
upset.

Grief is a tug of war between my eyelids and my optic nerve
millions of pinpricks pierce this farcical existence,
innocuous daily visions turn to the heavy, laden memories,
Looking to the left and downwards is
the only place my eyes rest,
as they travel back in time to when
I knew you best
lost in the disconnect between now and then,
the present moment double exposed to these interminable lessons
and mostly i see through the swimming sea of wet lashes,
salty brain bashing itself
nerve ticking faithfully
my eyes are changing  based on my attitude and
i long to be my own visionary

Grief is apathy for the day to day
when a boxed in cubicle and data entry mean
years as a slave on this
pre-packaged chained life,
more meaningless still when
you shattered the grey scale with colour
refused to give that life a rudder,
used your arms to row and changed the course of your boat's angle,
This is life-numbing rage
turned to watered down discontent,
life dangles me a carrot,
but the bite is bitter.

Grief is a universe of tender connection
Friendship through loss solidifies our perspectives
what a shitty beauty to behold,
only present in your absence
this rusting sentiment
like an oversized person in an undersized body
i long to rip my face apart,
stain the seams with the blood of freedom,
breathe with a bigger sense of me-ness
once this frail body is left behind
but these friends,
they pat me back into my skin,
gently, telling me
all the shiny things they are grateful for,
they whisper, look up look up, when
eyes are castiron down,
heavy like i'm ready to look inside my own grave a while
and they smile.
They smile like they know doing so is my reason to push on
like they know I cry for them in my prayers,
like they know the feeling of caring family
and they smile.

Grief is the place where words are
bandaids on broken arms
sticking to your hairs as though the
glue will keep you together
Blood seeping out the sides,
White knuckles cold as ice,
Gripping to this seething reality
Through this blazing fire
We are forged,
Harder skin,
Longer vision,
Wider shoulder
Heart older

Grief is a dropped stone,
Buried out of reach,
Stomach lined with bile and
Bite
There's little light left in the kitchen,
The curtains stay drawn and dank,
We teach ourselves again of the sun,
Warm fingers inside bear hugs,
Grasp onto the match's flame for heat
Retreat into your cave
Sleep long nights and longer days,
Fill your mind with dreamers phase,
The low hum of mighty existence,
Grief is when your eyes drop,
Lids heaving
Rotting tears
And a single breath,
Held.