Grief is such a strange word.
Starts in your throat
And tears its way up
To your tongue
To scream at the world
For what it's done.
Then it ends,
Dragged out slowly into the silence.
-Autumn
****************************************
This was literally just me thinking about how the word "grief" rolls off our tongues. It sounds like it feels.
VOUS LISEZ
Hiraeth
PoésieHireath: (n) A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was. For the home I haven't yet returned to. ***************************** A book of poems and the occasional response to writing prompts. Or both. My es...
