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Misplaced Grief

it’s important to remember while we grieve to not get lost in it.

it’s important to remember while we grieve to not let it rule our day.

it’s important to remember while we grieve to not misplace the grief.

placing the grief on the shelf for a little while is nothing to worry about, that’s natural coping.

placing the grief far back onto a dusty bookshelf full of misplaced emotions, on the other hand, is detrimental.

let us remember what the loss has given us – a chance of renewal, a chance to change behaviors that are not serving us, a chance to treat others how we wish we treated our lost loved one.

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Aunt Stephanie

the billowing branches of trees

swaying in the breeze

there you are

collecting fees

for those who doubt themselves

“you can do it, you will beat this disease”

you sit perched upon these trees

in the company of friendly buzzing bees

feeling finally at ease

feeling the constant, cool sea breeze

you wave to us while holding your bell jar

inside is a symbol of everything you are

a dragonfly, sparkling like the north star

you smile and take flight

“my final au revoir!”

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Dear Me At 23

I am sorry you felt the need to binge tv shows nightly and eat fast food to soothe yourself.

You stopped seeing friends except on the weekend when you would get wasted.

I am sorry you slept with numerous men who did not care about you.

(Remember the one who slept with you, took your cigarettes and then left and never talked to you again? Shout out to Kyle from Longmeadow, Mass. You reignited my trauma, yet I feel sorry for you. I saw those sadness in your eyes. I hope you are ok.)

I am sorry you let your mother, who loved you and who you loved very much, to control your emotions like a light switch….so badly that self harm and disordered eating became a part of your life.

I am NOT sorry for these experiences. They taught me lessons.

I am sorry for the hurt they caused my sensitive soul though.

Now, we will heal, but it’s up to me when.

When?

I don’t know.

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The Smoking Woman

the last time i saw you

was years before you died

that big smirk, hazel eyes

wrinkled face, aged and wise

leaving your home, i reverse to see

the door ajar, peeking out at me

the smoking woman seeming carefree

dog in hand, both of you, short and gutsy

i wave goodbye, ‘i love you’ with glee

knowing one day i will miss this reality

the last time i saw her

almost two years has passed

my personal doomsday

an emotional bomb blast

i have no choice, i look at that day

as the other side gently making way

for the gutsy smoking woman

April 23rd, feast day