drift /drift/
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these words are not mine but gathered, strung up and arranged. thank you to each anonymous writer-griever and to jessica dore for pointing many moons ago to this bereavement survey.
We started to drift A slow unravelling of our lives Like walking under water At a distance from it all People on the other side of a river don’t experience the same You died in the sea Undamaged on the outside, wrecked on the inside Through gauze: Even breathing became exhausting Me on the sea bed, a leaden helmet no oxygen supply Floating a water balloon over your head *POP* all loss hits "We" became "I" and "Us" became "Me", It's the difference between drowning and swimming. Drowning every day. Sinking in quicksand in the night. tsunamis knocking you flat, small waves rock leaving you standing. Constant tears, dissolving into seas of silence. Like floods insurmountable, unbearable. I almost lost my mind. Crying crying: rain, showers, or storms, never knowing what the weather’s going to be ....wailing wailing when alone a memory, then whooshing unpredictability. fading to burst back worse than ever what triggers waves I don't understand. Honestly the strangest things happen the week following death: shattered bulbs, twirling blue lights, the falling of photos off walls Sometimes totally out of the blue, I’d fall into a deadly crack Kali rules, and Parvarti takes flight I walked only on mountain tops. Warmer valleys depended upon a repression of the glacial machinations which tore and tore the landscapes apart How inwardly furious I was crossing between worlds. I’d think 'now I have once again emerged from water I didn't realise I was still submerged in'. Like running my fingers through your hair, forming circles on your scalp and all the time looking into your deep eyes. I put Nina Simone on to play, do you remember? Then I went upstairs, to finish writing a poem: the one l read at your funeral. I didn't know...did you? Walking along the sea front I felt like a new born lamb, wobbly on my legs I had to change to survive, meet other people made plans to fill time. To feel less like a rudderless boat live near a river a marina To not get the sinking feeling anymore Let Grieving be like falling back in love: the tired taking-for-grantedness of life together and inevitably small resentments Sit and watch the water, feel closer to you now death is just a drop in the sea enough to make us weep
grief is a prominent companion in my winding path. it's such a unique yet unifying force. maybe grief is why i'd go into the mountains and likely i'd eat the apple too.
this is so so beautiful
Oh Mel…this conveys a most profound feeling, thank you. You have excelled yourself…