The Fourth Death (written when I was overwhelmed with grief)
It took four funerals
for me to notice
I was still alive.
For years,
I wore numbness like armor,
thinking apathy was power.
But grief waited.
It stayed patient,
like a stray dog by the door.
And one night at 3 a.m.
it climbed into my bed
and I cried -
for her,
for them,
for me,
for every goodbye
I had skipped.
@Nyctosaurus13
This captures perfectly for me the fact that grief comes unexpectedly.
It takes no prisoners.
It has no timeline.
No rules.
It comes at us full force.
We have to face it eventually.
Your poem is raw, honest and relatable.
Thank you for sharing!
💜💕
Thank you so much, @Amanda84… it means a lot that my words resonated with you. Grief really does show up uninvited, and sometimes the only thing we can do is just feel it. I’m glad poetry could capture that, even a little.
