In Solidarity by Joshie

On making peace with grief, loneliness and fear.

---

Alone, stranded in the dead of night,

or maybe in a dark room, pitch-black.

No, my eyes are closed,

because what’s the point of opening them?

Loud noises; the sound of the door being pushed to its limit,

well so am I.

The irritating intense jingling of keys

behind the locked door

always makes my heart race, pound, scream and shudder.

The glazed silence that comes after those monstrous shouts

is fresh in my mind still, never to leave.

The taste of blood piercing me,

my own flesh and blood caused me,

but still, I am the lone perpetrator leading my own demise.

We do not grow out of grief,

we grow around it, in twists and turns,

like parasitical plants, that are still and will

always be, beautiful.

Do you see now, the reason

I close my eyes?