For those who didn't know, my Dad passed away in January of 2019. Thanks to a Creative Writing class, however, I began to experiment with putting my myriad thoughts, dreams, and feelings of my ongoing grief journey into poetry.
I tend to agree with Elizabeth Acevedo when she defines Poetry as "describing an experience in as few words as possible." I like challenging myself to adhere to this concept, and it's always satisfying to spin a good rhyme, but this collection tends to lean more towards the free-form and prosaic side. This is on purpose, though I didn't realize it until creating this post! If there is ever a time to let go of rules, routines, or coping mechanisms that don't help you, it's when loss makes an unexpected houseguest. Expectations of art are no different. So, I let go of trying to rhyme and let myself use as many adjectives as I felt were necessary.
Few things feel as isolating as grieving when nobody else in your circle has. If that's you, then hopefully this post can help you feel less alone and we can find common ground.
Insurance, Inheritance, & Savings
Jan. 5, ’22
My father’s hands reach as he’s dragged away.
I can only stand and mourn.
His screams echo and green papers appear in his silhouette.
I dig through my pocket to find a butterfly, but only take out bloody notes.
I barrel them out, but they keep coming,
Staining my hands and clothes maroon and sticky
Like some nightmare clown’s magic trick.
As the mountain builds so do his echoes.
This burden leaves me weightless, empty.
Needy and bleeding.
I’d burn it if I could,
To find your body resurrected from the ashes.
“Your place is so nice!”
“Yeah, we got it for a good deal.”
“But seriously, you’ve got it made!”
“Thanks, my dad died.”
Image Descriptions: Above is a photo of a pile of benjamins, spattered with blood. Below is a stock photo of a pile of burning money.
Guilt & Shame
Apr. 11, ’22
From the rear of my skull emerges a smoke.
Black, grey, mauve, fine, granular.
My eyes redden, sting, water like pelted by salt.
My eyes fill with acridity and my sternum locks.
Ashes are gently poured into the ground.
Image Descriptions: On the left, a photo of a woman's silhouette surrounded by smoke. On the right, a shovel lying on the ground.
Heart
Apr. 11, ’22
This children’s toy used to fit together.
A simple puzzle of colored blocks, interlocking to form a whole.
But a piece went missing. Stolen, most likely.
Pour water into it.
Nothing can replace the missing piece, but there is something to fill the crevasses.
It is not the same, I concede, but now, it overflows.
Image Description: Image of vessel overflowing with water.
Big, Strong Man
May 10, ’22
I once had a knight. Others called him Sir, but I called him Dad.
He saved me plenty of times, coming to my aid at desperate, dwindling hours with his mind and a calculator.
I held his arm and no man dared raise his own against me. I called his name and dragons fled.
I sit around this campfire with the other princesses. They take turns laughing at the charming fools who used to rescue them.
My heart drops within me and I hope that the orange light and smoke disguise my reddening eyes.
They ask if a big, strong man ever saved me and I answer yes. They ask who, and I wish I was a better liar.
Image Descriptions: Above, a photo of a knight's shoulder pauldron. Below, a dark photo of a campfire
Image Descriptions: On the left, a black-clad woman surrounded by yellow bokeh lights. On the right, a photo of a person in black with a black umbrella standing amidst a colorful city street.
I Miss You Still
Nov. 7, ‘23
It’s strange.
Colors never looked so vibrant.
Birdsong never sounded so lyrical.
Rain never smelled so homey.
Petals never felt so velvety.
Coffee never tasted so balanced.
Looking back, the memories are desaturated and thin.
Though my body was a void, the world seemed more beautiful than ever before.
Perhaps it was always so.
But I had to lose something so big, beautiful, and needed, to notice the small, beautiful, and needed.
Cold Embers
Dec 7, ‘23
We all had spent the whole day at the beach together. We sat in chairs and watched the sky fade to black, then the stars disappeared like a closing curtain.
There was nothing but darkness for a breath, but the dream did not end.
The waves kept rolling, glowing green and blue. A high tide almost watched our toes with color. I let it run over my fingers and slapped the sand to see it flash.
Bioluminescent algae! It has been here all along.
With every jade and electric wave, bursts of blue flakes wafted into the sky, filling it like lazy fireflies.
I reached back and took your hand, and we ran through the cold embers to the flashing ocean. I did not even miss you, because you were right beside me.
Image Descriptions: A dark sky filled with blue embers. Below, a photo of Japanese beach at night, dappled with blue glow.
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