Time to Grieve

I grieve now. For a loss. And I grieve with all my heart.

I could only wish for time to fly by as fast as it could.

I wish to close my eyes in the night and not wake up to any morning.

I wish to shut myself from the world, and grieve in private.

For I have lost something dear to me, something precious, something I would want to be mine alone but couldn’t.

My soul grieves. My soul cries. My eyes bear no tears. Death is not half as horrifying as the grief I feel now. The world around me will go on turning. The feast will not wait for me. The show must go on without me.

Let the world move onwards without me, for I grieve now, and I can’t grieve and run at the same time. My grief takes away most of my energy for running, and whatever is left is eaten up by my grief.

I can do nothing now. I grieve and I have none left for me.

Oh, the grief of having to regain trust that has been broken! Oh, the loneliness! The sorrow! The torment! The anguish! The agony!

Thorn upon thorn upon my head, within my thoughts, around my heart. Oh, day of a million sorrows! Be gone from me, insolent creature of sadness. Depart from me, loathsome shadow of despair.

Or just give me death. Death–the blessing of eternal oblivion. A burden lighter than the slow and grinding and long moment of grief. Spare me from the crushing grip of grief, oh Death! Save me from this coldness, this emptiness, this dark and lonely cave where my demons torture me each second.

Put me to sleep, if not temporarily, then at least eternally.

For grief has come to visit and spite me, to raid my home of every warmth that it has left in the hearth. And I am now stricken with fear, paralyzed with helplessness, by its presence in my house.

(First published on my private blog in 2004.)