#grief work

[letterstomonkey]

Grief is a leaky faucet and a forged signature; The pipes froze over and you forgot to Call your mom back, and that was three days ago. Grief is addictive, Residual and graceless; I grieve in place of a Painted-by-hand Ceramic, potted plant. Grief is visceral itching A scabbing tattoo Sunday at 6pm Tumbleweeds in the pantry and my bedroom is sick of me; Grief is opening the blinds for the first time at 6pm Because it is better to start the day Dripping faucet and all, when the alternative is keeled over in a parking lot. Grief is a feeling, or a meaning a meal, a money order, a missing sock or a tearful walk- But I can grieve you in rooms I haven't stepped in yet, But I can grieve you in brush strokes on a blank page, But I can grieve you in how I cough up smoke. Grief is regret. Grieving you, like gawking at a full moon only to discover it was yesterday, so now what will you find in the sky to celebrate? Grief is the last time we looked at the moon at the same time, never knowing it, Grief is a leaky faucet.

#grief/mourning #dealing with grief #grief poetry #grief work #stages of grief #grief poem #prose poem #poetry #daily poem #sad poems #sad poetry #depressiv #depressing poem #moving on #dead poets society #fiction writing #novel writing #creative writing #original writing #my writing #spilled journal #my diary #writeaway #bookblr #book quotes #books #bookworm #book quote #bookaholic #storytelling

[padawan-historian]

Making space to grieve with the mothers in mourning 💔

#our world #womb wellness #israel is an apartheid state #Judaism is not Zionism #solidarity with palestine against apartheid #Palestine #grief work

[mortmicpodcast]

Something sweet to start your day

#grief work #grief #grieving #dead #deathcare #death #dying

[swift-gurl-blog]

*Carlie's Version* Taylor Swift Karaoke! 💋

This pulls at my heart. 💔 My Dad died and this song reminds me of him. Bringing tissues for all my issues at The ERAS TOUR! 😭

#Bigger Than The Whole Sky

#taylornation #taylor swift #bigger than the whole sky #midnights #karaoke #the eras tour #grief work #miss my dad

[oflights]

Grief Work

I have gazed the black flower blooming her animal eye. Gacela oscura. Negra llorona.

Along the clayen banks I follow her-astonished, gathering grief’s petals she lets fall like horns.

Why not now go toward the things I love?

Like Jacob’s angel, I touched the garnet of her wrist, and she knew my name. And I knew hers— it was Auxocromo, it was Cromóforo, it was Eliza. It hurtled through me like honeyed-rum.

When the eyes and lips are touched with honey what is seen and said will never be the same.

Eve took the apple in that ache-opened mouth, on fire and in pieces, from the knife’s sharp edge.

In the photo her fist presses against the red-gold geometry of her thigh. Black nylon, black garter, unsolvable mysterium—I have to close my eyes to see.

Achilles chasing Hektor round the walls of Ilium three times. How long must I circle the high gate above her knees?

Again the gods put their large hands in me, move me, break my heart like a clay jar of wine, loosen a beast from some darklong depth—

my melancholy is hoofed. I, the terrible beautiful Lampon, a shining devour-horse tethered at the bronze manger of her collarbones.

I do my grief work with her body—labor to make the emerald tigers in her hips leap, lead them burning green to drink from the violet jetting her.

We go where there is love, to the river, on our knees beneath the sweet water. I pull her under four times until we are rivered. We are rearranged.

I wash the silk and silt of her from my hands— now who I come to, I come clean to, I come good to.

Natalie Diaz

#it's national poetry month!!! #natalie diaz #grief work #poetry #today's the last day!!! i'm kind of bummed about it tbh #there were other poems i didn't get to #but it was essential that i post this one #queen natalie #i could spend hours just lazing around in this poem #it gives you this feeling that you're descending into it #the references are so unreal and deep and intense #Why not now go toward the things I love? #is an obvious line to put this in the tattoo series and was major writing inspo for me #but the last! two! lines! #now who I come to‚ I come clean to‚ I come good to. #💜🤍💜🤍

[lifeonkylesfarm]

I don't know a single person who has gotten over their grief. I don't think it's really possible. It's not that it stays so horribly debilitating forever, it dulls, but it's still there. My mother's dog Zelda died 40+ years ago. She isn't over it. She isn't over the death of our cat Poody, who died in April 2013. I'm not over it either, and I remember the day in precise detail, as if it were yesterday. Her father, my grandfather, died 14 years ago. Neither of us are over that. My cousin's son died a few years ago. I don't think that grief will ever leave her. My paternal grandma's father (my great grandfather) died in the early 70s. She isn't over it. She still has dreams about his death and about him being here. I still dream most days about my cat who died 7 years ago. My great aunts still reminisce about my other paternal great grandfather, who, coincidentally, died the same year as the other. The people we love never leave our minds. I think we simply have to learn to live with it, to accept it. It's hard.

#grief #grief and loss #loss #grieving #dealing with grief #mourning #grief work #grief recovery #grief talk #grief is weird #grief is hard #grief is a bitch #grief is the price we pay for love #grief processing #grief posting #grief and mourning #grief and love #grief support #grief journey #love and grief

[beesmakesthings]

Letters to my Dad (might end up as a series, who knows)

Hey Dad... I sold the beastie today. That funny rattly car that took me back and forth to you all those months. It wasn't that many really was it in the end? I am sure I shouted it as much as I talked softly to it, driving back and forth in the dark and trying to avoid potholes. (So MANY potholes) Sitting grinding in the traffic waiting at Bens Yard. Someone will suggest meeting there one day and I will explode all the rage at how much time it took away from me and you last winter. How much time I spent being tense in traffic, desperate only to make the most of the time we had left. It's taken me a good lot of other places since you died, and most importantly it took Laurie and I home after you'd gone. (He cabbed back to Ely and picked it up, brought a load of shopping so we could hole up and sit with you. I hated that you were dying, but being with you those last hours was honestly so calm and peaceful). But I can't drive it any more. The pain in my feet has just got worse and worse. I don't regret anything you understand - I've felt quite proud of remastering manual driving and being able to drive both cars. But automatic beckons for me now, I think. But I'm exhausted by the grief of the loss of this other connection. Even as others form at the same time. Unexpected tears and ....not regrets, I can't drive it and someone should be driving it that can get use from it. But it was *my* car - the one you bought me. And it will always be so. The money I got for beastie will go into whatever the Citroen needs now, and you'll still be with me. Goodnight tonight Dad. I miss you and I wish you could show me round this camera. I miss our conversations and all the things you knew. I don't miss seeing you in pain or feeling like I couldn't do anything right most of the time, but I do miss you actually being here.

#grief work #dad things #car stuff

[unwelcome-ozian]

#boundaries #boundary work #grief work

[heartfeltletters-written]

a poem about grief and longing and the meaning of the portuguese word saudade. if been wanting to write about this for a long time but could never get it out. i finally feel like this is worth showing <3

#poemsoftheday #poetic #poetry #stages of grief #grief work #tw grief #grief/mourning #poetry club #poetry compilation #ao3 works #ao3 #original content #original poem #original work #please like this poem #angst #death

[cosmicbirch8]

Without You

-

My sky eyes are filled with rain clouds

My sadness collects in misty pillows

To be released in melancholy downfalls

And torrents of salty drizzle

-

This storm

Stirred by memories of you

Casts turbulent recollections

Steeped in yesterday's wishes

The sorrow settles around me

Pooling into forget-me-not farewells

Gentle waves lapping sleepily

At the shore of my consciousness

-

Your face seeps into these quiet moments

Leaving me grasping at ghosts

And solemnly dancing with shadows

As I dry a well quenched face

And move forward again

Without you

-

Cosmic Birch

#poetry #poem #poets on tumblr #female writers #spilled ink #writers and poets #druidess #green witchcraft #poetscommunity #witch #griefjourney #grief poetry #grief poem #grief #coping with grief #grief work #shadow work #poetic #poets corner #dark poetry #gothic poetry #writers on tumblr #writer #women writers #writing #writerscorner #spilled poetry #spilled words #spilled emotions #spilled journal

[kimchicuddles]

Hey I'm trying to boost my patreon and commission orders. Help me spread the word to anyone you think might be interested, and thank you so much for supporting my work! You can also just follow on Patreon FREE for all the updates and random downloads I put up there: PATREON patreon.com/kimchicuddles   COMMISSIONS TikvaWolf.com/services   BOOKS TikvaWolf.com/books   DONATE venmo.com/tikvawolf

#grief #grief work #abandonment #abandonment trauma #alone

[prisms4eyes]

a blessing for the life you didn’t choose

Blessed are you when the shock subsides, when vaguely, you see a line appear that divides before and after. You didn’t draw it, and can barely even make it out. But as surely as minutes add up to hours and days, here you are, forced into a story you never would have written. Blessed are you in the tender place of wonder and dread, Wondering how to be whole when dreams have disappeared and part of you with them, where mastery, control, determination, bootstrapping, and grit, are consigned to the realm of before (where most of the world lives), in the fever dream that promises infinite choices, unlimited progress, best life now. Blessed are we in the after, loudly shouting: is there anybody here? We hear the echo, the shuffle of feet, the murmur of others asking the same question, together in the knowledge that we are far beyond what we know. Show us a glimmer of possibility in this new constraint, that small truths will be given back to us. We are held. We are safe. We are loved. We are loved. We are loved. And best of all: We are not alone.

-Kate C. Bowler

#kate bowler #kate c bowler #writing #illness #chronic illness #grief #grief writing #grief work

[paintedtombstone]

When We Speak.

Dear Mourner,

I wonder what voice you’ve given me since last we spoke. How slow my intonation, my syllabic stresses and breaks, the gentle lingering or lack thereof when I space my words further down the page. Have you given me these things? Did you feed me my own voice, or did you stuff me with your own? Have I grown ripe with a voice that I don’t even know?

I wonder.

Half my days are silent with my voice on my hands. I’m deeply entrenched in my own love-lines and every scar I’ve turned over and over again in flesh. I cup every word like a dove, eyes wide with thoughts of flight, or perhaps a viper, muscles woven tight with ferocity. Every curl of my fingers beckons conversation, every flutter of my lips another drop into the oceans of emotion.

I wonder what voice you gave me, even in silence. Written or signed, I scream and cry. I’ve punctuated my pleas with pen tearing through paper and bones rattling in their sockets. Is that the voice of a gardener, a poet? A thief, a saint? A reader, a writer?

I wonder who you think i am and what voice pierces the air.

Until our next letter,

Tombstone

#spilled thoughts #artists on tumblr #letters from tombstone #grief work #grief blogging #american sign language #asl interpreter #bilingual #letters #writblr

[totallyhextra]

Soon the paper dolls weren't enough. I moved to photo manipulation.

(3/3) (warning: explicit art below)

Then I suddenly didn't want to draw dresses. I wanted to draw porn with my oc. I didn't decide this. It was like my brain had a craving, and when it was done with one subject, it went all in on the next.

Porn switched to comfort.

Comfort switched to action.

Trying to finish another action pic but it's fighting me. I think my brain is getting ready to jump to stupid comics.

I have to admit, it's sort of fascinating to see what my subconscious chooses to use to deal with each stage of grief.

I have a feeling I'm going to be watching it for a while...

❤️🖤

#hexadecimal #reboot cartoon #reboot fanart #reboot fan art #oc #fae #hex in dresses #grief/mourning #grief work #grief

[stumbling-after-happiness]

It was a Wednesday

When I’d had enough.

I wanted out, to run from the everlasting maze,

Messenger groups,

Manipulative messages sent by a friend,

Guilt tripping me up.

I crafted an escape tunnel with words from my therapist.

They let in the light whilst building up walls.

I edited it like a legal document. I rewrote, I tweaked. I even put it through Grammarly.

Clicked send. Then block.

Then blocked the fiancé, unfriended.

Years of hope laid to rest.

Years of trying and not being met in the middle of the darkness.

Waiting to be guided out by a friendly face, a light.

How can someone we knew at 3 develop such bad behaviour? When you’ve seen someone with ribbons in their hair and innocence in their eyes, where does that goodness go?

I finally let the memories lie, not filtering the present with their positivity. Letting the facts brick themselves up.

The grief hit me, rumbling louder and louder until surrounding me with rushing thoughts.

Thankfully, I was prepared. Although I know nothing can fully prepare me for grief.

I realised her actions were causing the very darkness I was asking her to save me from.

It was all a terrible secret.

A cruel laugh in the cold.

So I stood up.

I felt the wall and let it guide me out

Into the open,

The fresh sunlight,

The peaceful air.

#toxic friendship #poetry #artist #poet #artistic #friend #friends #friendship #toxic #words #freedom #cptsd #just cptsd things #living with cptsd #cptsdsupport #cptsdwarrior #cptsd art #mental illness #mental health #grief work #grief

[sevenseptember]

Grief Work

#grief work #healing #spirituality