heart wrench
a poem about grief and acceptance
great pain in our hearts
when they disappear
a lack of acceptance
they’re not gone, they’re here
everything bleak
everything weird
absurdist, funny
every day, tears
every day, pain
every day, fears
everything dark
everything bleared
everything strange
nothing can change
nothing can be
all is empty
•
all is empty, yet all is all—
all beautiful moments, all treasured
memories we keep close to our chests
all tears we spill, all love we share
can never be empty, never be nothing
•
so wrench my head back; make me breathe
in the sweetness of the morning dew
as I stare into the sun, bright and blinding,
I wish they could celebrate these mornings too—
those who have passed over or under
or in between, or through and through
the planes of human existence, someplace
the sky can’t see, where we can’t quite know,
and to live, to breathe without them
feels like something we can’t quite do
•
life is finite, and the grass under our feet
will soon wither, dry out, crumble away
loved ones will go, memories will blur, and
our worlds grow so lonely that we grow afraid
that the magic is gone, that the love didn’t matter
when truly it’s from that love that we’re created
and it’s worth it, for love, as hard as it is,
to say that goodbye, that harsh, final bade
to the most treasured people; from them, we were made
About the Creator
angela hepworth
Hello! I’m Angela and I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, and more. I delve into the dark, the sad, the silly, the sexy, and the stupid. Come check me out!
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fear; make it known
it is easy to wonder why we are taught to swallow our words, complaints and worries dissolving on our tongues like salt; only sugar can leave our mouths, even as it only falls out in sickening, sopping clumps; confidence is treachery, succumbing is natural, normal, a peaceful, simple order, a bended knee to the knees on our necks, crushing us as we apologize for not dying any faster; what world is this, that lying in certain, pretty swirls, in delicate, thin-scrawled fonts, is rewarded while honesty and courage is continually stomped down on like a bug, a disgusting, insignificant, lower thing, something that makes us weak; what if appeasing the ones who ruin us is not a strength, but a world of pain we all submit to without a second thought; what if that thought alone ruins us?
By angela hepworth10 months ago in Poets
Comments (8)
We know of our mortality, yet act mean to each other. It's irony. Thank you for a poignant poem.
A person once told me, "we can't overcome grief, we can only learn how to live with it". I love your take on this one. ❤️ Sending you hugs, Angela~
Sadly, it is a part of life we all have to go through. Your poem was so poignant ans beautifully written. Loved your poem!
Beautiful reflection on grief. Felt like this really reflected the journey through the emotional stages.
Gosh Angela, this is another phenomenal poem. I thought this was such a positive spin on grief. Well done.
Sad and then uplifting and then accepting. Like a tour of loss.
Yes indeed, it dose come from love. Very encouraging and uplifting poem. Love it ♥︎
Well written, congrats 👏