Grief

'Tis such a shame, 

the present day's common knowledge of greiving the another's pulse.

So many people are abandoning each other

for whatever screams that it's better at the time

that no one bothers to hear the whispers. 

The term, in general, should be left for the dead, as most emotions are. 

The dead are allowed to be buried for all eternity,

their whole lives living on from six feet underground. 

Personally, I'd love to have perserved

the curve of your smile and your laugh lines in a box,

but have buried it so shallowly, 

perhaps so that the rain could help me find you someday.

But the best part about rain is that it only happens when it's meant to,

when it's needed.

It also eventually ends. 

The throbbing of broken bones and hearts

as I rediscover small, beloved parts of you

will be absorbed back into the earth, like a massive shock.

Such grief will infiltrate your breathing,

you struggle it in and before you know it's there you can barely exhale it out.

I don't think many people talk about grief because it represents the means to an end,

and I can't blame them for their silence,

as I've never been much for them either.

That, and it's agonizing, the type of anguish to keep someone under their breath

for years after the fact.  

It's a waste, really, missing someone that's still around. 

A waste of time that could be spent spreading love, 

but grief withstands the test of time to too grand an extent. 

Perhaps it is not grieving the person themselves, 

but longing for the certain happiness brought about by them 

that you realize is irreplacable.

Of course, not everything was meant to be regained.

Some relationships just flounder the way that they leave you.

I think the worst mechanism to have in relationships is a fear of endings.

With that, you prolong the start of something beautiful, slaying it in the process.

Almost an abotion, if that's not too politically incorrect. 

Two people have a strong liking for each other, 

a near love really,

but one or both run from what could be, out of a fear as strong as their love.

Debateable, how much there truly is to miss about a relationship,

or what hurts most about losing one.

The most comical aspect of grief must be the varying sick days needed

in order to surpass it. 

The nine months look pretty nice right about now. 

If I were to guess, I'd say yours was about two.

In any given moment, 

my grief would steal two of them from me. 

Given any thought, 

I wonder if you would give me two of yours out of your own grief. 

But I will take those two thoughts of yours and give them back

like a bouquet of rotten flowers.

I wonder if there are times that you wished I had revived your flowers. 

If you ever did,

thank you.

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.