• Grief?

    God… please… give me this life…  this simplicity… strip me to nothing but nature and survival and I could be good, I could be decent…  I could pray every day and send good into the world…

  • Scent of Memories

    I can still smell him.  It will hit me every so often, I’ll step into a room, or just turn in my chair, and I’ll smell him… his soap, his clothes, his shampoo… all of it that made him, uniquely him.  D shaves more regularly so he always smelled of his aftershave…  T smelled of his soap, I can’t describe it.  There’s still some of it in the upstairs bathroom, but I can’t bring myself to go in there…

  • Grief – Anaphora

    Grief Grief Grief is shards of ice flaying my skin. Grief is a cold anchor tearing at my heart. Grief is a heavy shadow, curling round my spine. Grief is a keening shriek scraping on my ribs.

  • Superstitions

    I’m sad tonight.  Not sad like a few nights ago, not sobbing sad, just quietly, tiredly sad.  It’s starting to break all of us.  Tonight I watched a grown man crumble, literally, his legs give out beneath him, fall to the ground on his knees and sob those wrenching sobs that steal your breath and make you wheeze.  He is K’s partner.  They have two children.  They had talked about adopting a third.

  • Links and Sorrow

    I’m struggling.  Some days I think I have hope, I feel the light, I know things will hurt and I also know I will survive and I will live and eventually I will thrive again. Then I have days… like today… when I can’t seem to stop crying.  I hurt.  Everywhere.  I hurt, I hurt, I hurt.  I sit down to write and I cry because I hurt and I don’t want to write and fail and be imperfect because that’s all I can ever do.  So I sit and I cry on my journal and watch the ink run.

  • Dying

    These are the words of my best friend who has acute leukemia for the third time.  He gave me permission to translate his words to English and to share them here.Â