I do not want my grief to go away, to dissolve. I do not want to get rid of it.
I just want it to be locked up in the box, deep inside me, so that I can go about the day smiling and wishing people 'Good Day'.
But when I am alone, I want to open that box and then slowly that grief flows through my blood , my being and overpowers me, like the alcohol and I get drunk on it and soak in it.
The next morning, I wake up with its hangover but will put my make up back on face with kohl lined eyes when I open the door of my appt., my grief is carefuly locked away again so the rays of the rising sun cant touch it or the laughter of the children cant hurt it.
It is safe and loved and cherished.
I just want it to be locked up in the box, deep inside me, so that I can go about the day smiling and wishing people 'Good Day'.
But when I am alone, I want to open that box and then slowly that grief flows through my blood , my being and overpowers me, like the alcohol and I get drunk on it and soak in it.
The next morning, I wake up with its hangover but will put my make up back on face with kohl lined eyes when I open the door of my appt., my grief is carefuly locked away again so the rays of the rising sun cant touch it or the laughter of the children cant hurt it.
It is safe and loved and cherished.
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