Assassin

Grief is an assassin
waiting for the pause
between forgetting and remembering
to re-shatter your heart,

leaving you
attempting to find a way
to replace every needle-like shard
while praying 
you don't cut yourself on them
(again).




Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Pain in Ink. 

14 comments:

  1. Outstanding depiction, Rommy! The shard imagery is right on.

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  2. Wow! That might be the best poem about grief I ever read.

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    1. I am deeply honored by that comment. Thanks!

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  3. I'm with Debra. This is so very vivid. I particularly like (or understand) that terribly ever-present shard, even when we think it's dulling... it comes up and sticks us (again).

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    1. You'd think the damn things would get less pointy right away but noooooooooooooooooooo

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  4. Keanu Reeves once said that grief changes shape but it never leaves. I agree with that assessment.
    Tomorrow is the 11th anniversary of my father's passing.

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    1. *hugs* I hope that you have a way to be gentle to yourself on that day.

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  5. Piercing depiction, Rommy. Grief spans years, reshaping itself with each appearance. It is a sneaky assassin.

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    1. Super sneaky. There I am enjoying a perfectly lovely moment and BAM!

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  6. Right... just when you think it's over it's starts all over again. A thousand little papercuts that is grief. Each a different kind of sting.

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  7. This perfectly describes how I was dealt with recently. The assassin visits me often and I still pay the price.

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  8. i like how you compared grief to an assassin. it attacks when you think it is over, and leaves you in a mess again.
    this is a great write!

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