Threads of Grief

     I hold a tendril of sanity

with hands unsteady

       unsure 

             worrying the frayed edges 

                    with my thoughts

                                anxieties 

                                          what ifs

                                          and 

                    why nots

              and 

                what if I’m wrongs 

The tension of the passers-by

 held in the tightness of their faces

   Their dread

      symptoming into blossoming 

              dis-ease

                     PRESSES

against my ribcage

      squeezing my heart into 

palpitating stillness

My heart shatters 

And my spirit cries into the 

   miasmic howl

       searching

calling

  beseeching 

the Universe 

for release

 I no longer recognize the tendrils that I have gathered

 

while trying to weave some coherent tapestry

        of

            my

                Life

And in those moments

            grief 

            spills

            out

    Sloshing across tenuously crafted knots

                Smearing ink across pages

                     Shrieking through the holes

        adding 

            harmonic counterpoint 

   to my 

        heart-rended cry

           

And all of the threads disperse 

away 

from 

me

                I catch my breath

            in gulping  

guttural 

sobs

   

    One strand glimmers and floats towards me

        a filament of barely-there hope

    I grasp it and

wrap myself 

        around it

 Hoping for reprieve   

The grief subsides and sits once more

the sadness dims and steps to the side

And I begin my thread gathering again

   unsteady 

          unsure 

             

              determined   

I am not in mourning

   but sadness dogs my every step

I am not grieving

  but grief sits next to me every moment