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I want to write happy poems on new years. But grief doesn’t have timelines, and it refuses to let go of me.

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Grief Let Go Myself Poem Refusal Writing

Bagwalas

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I honor pain, for it is because of pain my touch has become tender, my words kinder and my heart humbler.
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They say body is nothing but the dress for the soul. So does this mean all my pain and all my tragedies are now tattoos on my soul?
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And every person you love breaks your heart is that why you call love so hard?
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This ocean of love swallowed my paper heart whole.
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I’ve never been much of a dancer. But healing is a song I’ve been learning to dance on.
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There is so much rain in my heart and yet it feels so empty. Then I remember, for flowers to grow, you need sunshine too.
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And in return for all the love i gave you, all you ever gave me was pain and heartbreak.
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Tear me open and I will bleed in your name. My heart aches from your absence, but in the aching and breaking is where my art is born.
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I’m sorry I can’t love in pieces, give me everything or nothing at all.
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There is freedom in loneliness. A kind of freedom that hurts. The kind you wish you never had.
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And its okay if work keeps you busy for days. On a little easier day, bring me a coffee and tell me how much you love me. I’d be totally fine.
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What is my poetry if not all of my sorrows blooming?
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