Grief
I am out of place like
A language I do not speak;
I opened my mouth,
And they watched it bleed.
They said they were sorry for my loss;
But I forgot what I had before it was gone.
The hole I held wide open—
The defeat,
Like a memory I waited for her to complete.
Happiness is a rebellion;
And this is my retreat.
Whatever I lost, I couldn’t reach;
I open up again to a thief,
And can never stand to watch them leave.
I no longer feel the need.
To keep,
To grieve,
To recover,
To believe.
I was broken long before the reprieve.
Copyright © Jessica Vh | Year Posted 2017
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