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A Grief, Maybe
It's a grief,
maybe,
this kind of relief.
An easy breath,
sort of,
this kind of death.
A new scheme,
I have,
this shattered dream.
A simple death,
perhaps,
this release of breath.
It's a relief,
kind of,
this form of grief.
A grief is not a type of a friend for you.
An advice from a psychologist can be based on an activity.
The activity can based on writing words, and learning a new language.
An hour can be good enough.
After it, a running, a swimming, or a dancing can be positive enough to be happy before going to a bed.
Now I know grief is a whetstone. It sharpens all your love, your happiest memories, into blades that tear you apart from within. Something has been torn out from inside me that will never be filled up, not ever, no matter how long I live.
Gray, Claudia. A Thousand Pieces of You. p243