Grief Shock Strike


Like air to an open wound,

oxygen, the first to arrive.

Even before pain can respond,

pins and needles all over.


Numb, everything, it’s all over,

a punch to the core of your gut,

a shock that gives us gills,

gasping in the stark dry air.

These motions getting us nowhere.


Harsh and bitter,

unforgiving light,

bleak exposition

of a slapped on reality.


A misunderstanding?

awkward and ugly,

denial denial denial!


News that has birthed its existence,

in a foreign form of resistance.

No more breath under water again,

all organs have shut down, grown dim.


These gravestones like teeth,

breaking on cement,

teeth that break like chalk,

crumbling on a board.

Gravestones feel like bitter broken teeth,

jagged, sensitive, and sore.


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