A love letter to Grief.

Grief.

A wound that needs more.

Deeper healing, stronger pursuit.

Surrender is my teacher.

I lift up my hands.

Despite the way memory still shackles me.

I remember the brilliance of the light that carries me.

I dust myself off, try again.

I wrote this poem after a day of wrestling back and forth with my own progress.

Healing was never supposed to be an easy thing. For so long I’ve painted my own journey as a checklist. A checklist to perfection that doesn’t exist. As I ease into each day, trusting that there will always be more than what I can see, I find myself being able to lean in, and listen. I’ve always been one to rush things and hope in the results that couldn’t come from work that has not been done yet. Sitting here in my own apartment, finding gratitude and remembering the nights I slept on couches after working late hours at a club where I was just a name with a body. Remembering all the moments when I couldn’t have even pictured having a place of my own to live. Grieving is part of healing, and letting go of who you used to be with loving eyes takes time. This a love letter to grief.