My friend Grief and I had breakfast together

After a long night in my room

Me crying and moaning

Grief looking on quietly

I believe that Grief does not care

He has pretended to be something I can get over

But even now I see

That Grief is not honest

He lies to me

He tells me things that make me believe

He tells me things that help me rationalize

The truth is that Grief is here to hurt

He likes to see me cry and curl up in a ball

It delights him to know that I have pain

Grief pulls my chin up

Looks in my eyes

And asks me a question

Just one

“Why do you keep letting me in?”

I don’t know the answer

But I do know that the smart thing to do

Would be to lock that door

The one that allows me to care

And also allows Grief entrance into my small world

I shall lock that door and hide the key

Perhaps in the cookie jar that holds my love

For I will no longer be using that either

I quietly sneak the key into its hiding spot

And creep to my room for perhaps a nap

I hear a giggle and turn to see

Grief is still here

I suppose I didn’t lock the door very well


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