Paradox of grief

 You hold grief prisoner,

Though you cannot contain fleeting time.

 

You hold onto every memory you have,

Though you cannot cradle the essence of their being,

You grasp your being tightly, while struggling to keep theirs alive.

 

You embrace the ambiguity of these troubling thoughts,

Soaking in the grayness of a mind that seems to have a mind of her own

 

But am I not part of their being?

Should you not let grief settle in?

 

Why do they say that grief hides in most familiar and unfamiliar places?

Aren’t you supposed to carry on, with grief as your anchor?

Does grief ground you?

 

As always, there are too many questions run in parallel

And yet you ask, why do I camouflage?

 

Yours

Mastering the art of becoming, where solace arrives on a not-so-wintery morning

~Cathartic~