Saturday, July 10, 2021


when my mother died,
i did not grieve,
for reasons still unclear.
i mean not to displace the blame;
the fault, if such it can be called,
was/is only mine.
there is/was no one else.
grief, though, is a form of energy,
and its potentiality
remained long hidden
(but ever real)
in my dark corners.
when my father died,
my grief (now doubled)
manifested itself physically,
with fever and chills
and aching and trembling.
i hid beneath blankets
for days until
it burned itself out.
a fire, not of cleansing
or redemption,
but of pain for its own sake.
what remains has yet to be determined
or is not worth examination.

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