It’s looking that way, yes. It’s not intentional, or at least it doesn’t feel that way to me. Grief is an entity that can be expressed in so many different ways… I just this series is more melancholic / wistful than some of my more angry ramblings! 🖤
Thanks. I hope so too. You mentioning the five stages reminded me of a poem I wrote back in March…
Lies
There is no better place.
Those we love don’t walk beside us.
There are no other rooms.
You will stand at that grave and weep.
There are more than five stages.
There are more than two parts.
Tears are not silent.
There is no peace or comfort to find.
Time heals nothing.
You’ll always walk alone.
And grief is like a fucking tsunami,
so good luck learning to swim in that.
Seems I was definitely a whole load angrier back then…. 🖤
Definitely tasting notes of anger, hints of resentment and toasted cinnamon, with a bitter finish.
Times heals nothing doesn’t inspire much hope.
But it seems you are further along the road to recovery reading your work now 💚
I guess I’m on a journey of good days and bad days / good poetry and bad poetry just now. There will still be the odd bit of toasted cinnamon here and there – but I’ll try and throw in a chocolate sprinkle where I can too.
Maybe. 😉🖤
Part of an ongoing series?
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It’s looking that way, yes. It’s not intentional, or at least it doesn’t feel that way to me. Grief is an entity that can be expressed in so many different ways… I just this series is more melancholic / wistful than some of my more angry ramblings! 🖤
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I’m sorry to hear 💚 if it’s the five stages, I guess acceptance is next. Hopefully you get there sooner rather than later.
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Thanks. I hope so too. You mentioning the five stages reminded me of a poem I wrote back in March…
Lies
There is no better place.
Those we love don’t walk beside us.
There are no other rooms.
You will stand at that grave and weep.
There are more than five stages.
There are more than two parts.
Tears are not silent.
There is no peace or comfort to find.
Time heals nothing.
You’ll always walk alone.
And grief is like a fucking tsunami,
so good luck learning to swim in that.
Seems I was definitely a whole load angrier back then…. 🖤
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Definitely tasting notes of anger, hints of resentment and toasted cinnamon, with a bitter finish.
Times heals nothing doesn’t inspire much hope.
But it seems you are further along the road to recovery reading your work now 💚
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Thank you, my mousey friend 👍
I guess I’m on a journey of good days and bad days / good poetry and bad poetry just now. There will still be the odd bit of toasted cinnamon here and there – but I’ll try and throw in a chocolate sprinkle where I can too.
Maybe. 😉🖤
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Nice. Cos what’s life without a little sugar and spice 😉💚
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Indeed 😉🖤
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*It’s just… Bloody typo’s! 👎🖤
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A painful journey my friend..
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Like you wouldn’t believe 🖤🖤
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