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Sorry For Your Loss

written by: Holly Michaels

@poetholly

 

Words bounce off of me
like rubber daggers,
they sting and bruise
but cannot do the job.

I watch as the wind blows dying leaves,
scatters them apart.
- - I think I understand what they feel like,
I think they are r e a d y for Winter.

I live in a season of almost.

Almost freezing,
almost empty
almost Thanksgiving.

Forgive me my sacrilege,
but I cannot give thanks today.
You note that I am surrounded by love,
by family,
by friends,
yet all of these things feel extraneous to me,
the audience cheering on this tragedy play,
applauding a great performance.

They say that no man is an island,
yet I am,
I am Atlantis
with the waves lapping at my feet,
eyes closed
feeling the salty spray.

 

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
In memory of my daddy, whilst trying to comprehend this unthinkable thing that is grief.

Holly Michaels

Holly Michaels

Holly Michaels is a poet from Appalachia writing on themes of love and loss. She is an outspoken advocate for social justice, social worker, mother, and lover of flip-flops.
Holly Michaels

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