Grief

I’ve worn you, my beloved cloak of grief, for so long, a companion.
Dark and musky I carried you with me, until you felt like skin, my skin.
My mind grew attached to you, the thought of letting go a betrayal.

Precious fabric, woven with cords drawn from deep within me.
Painted on your sleeves, a colourful remembrance of my tortured past.
I thought I swore an oath to you, by faithful sacrifices of bountiful tears.

I sensed the slightest change, a bloom, a message of the seasons.
The smallest ray of sunshine on that gray and gloomy rainy day.
Becoming aware of your heaviness, weighing me down, uncomfortably.

I touched your ivory buttons, feeling it between my cold fingers.
I felt the delicate images, lovingly carved on them, irrelevant now.
I heard your cries, as I unbuttoned, first one then another, slowly.

There was a painful tearing of flesh as I removed you from my back.
The act of letting go drawing blood from my ever faithful soul.
Claws of fear clutching frantically at my heart, what am I without you?

Your powerful addictive pulse calling out, desperately reaching.
I knew not to look back at you, but rather turn my face toward the sun.
Shining softly on the faint smile creeping onto my worn out face.

Published by Yaku Potgieter

Live Simply

6 thoughts on “Grief

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