Grief

I can feel grief as she’s manifested her way through my body. Wrapped and entangled herself into the deepest parts of my bones. My physical body feels heavy. I slouch. My joints crack and ache. I find a moment of liberation but it’s snapped away by profound heaviness. As if a blanket weighing a thousand pounds was thrust on top of me in an unexpected moment.

The strength to rise escapes me, I start to climb but the weight is too much. I have allowed grief to sit in me for so long that she had no option but to become a parasite. She feeds on the chaotic rawness of my pain. I never gave her the freedom to leave so she grew roots. She jumps at any opportunity to be seen and craves symbiosis.

But as she opens, I close. I swallow the tears and I press them down into the pit of my stomach, eventually burying them within my flesh. For a temporary moment, I am free of the burden. But she expands. Weaves her way into a tense muscle, pulsates until my head is throbbing.

How long can I keep her caged until I completely lose control?