Grief is...

aching... a black gnawing pit hungry for what it cannot have
awakening... from a dream in the night that made wishes reality
sobbing... while the world blindly continues on
hiding... because pretending is too hard

And yet - my eyes see what was unseen before.
I don't wish the time back.
I don't wish my story any different.

Sometimes though - I forget.
I wrap myself in self-pity and settle in for a good, long stay.
in the muck and mire
that is familiar and...

But, when I remember - I see what was unseen before.
I see depth and compassion in myself
where I used to see judgment and self-righteousness.
I see hurt and pain in others
where I used to see anger and nastiness.

Though what lies ahead is unseen.
I know where I am.
I know which road I'm traveling.
I know where I'll end.
I don't know what waits between now and then

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