Sadness
Pain
Suffering
loss
heart break
confusion
death
Katie
thanks
Camille
Grief is something we will all experience throughout the course of our life. It’s one of the most debilitating things…ever. It could be over something
Camille
grief is when your sad. Its the thought that fills you up when your sad about something. You feel re leaved. You just need to let all of the grief inside of you out.
Georgia
It’s funny that this word appear today, as I am preparing for one process of grief after witnessing another process of grief that I was allowed to glimpse at only momentarily. I have been thinking a lot about this word lately and what it means to do this as an action, when it seems so passive, so atmospheric. But it’s a verb. And that changes everything.
The truth will strip me off of all things. But at least I will be relinquished from the lies. I wish death for me, no good in living with shame, guilt and self-reproach. But I am a coward to kill myself. Anyway, I am already dead inside with the remorse and disgrace that it brings with it. Even the sadness has left me…
Abibhajit
“Oh don’t give me that.” He looked over at her. “There’s no reason for grief here.”
“That’s what you think. You’re not in my position, you don’t know how it feels to go through this.” She sobbed as she stared at him through her messy hair. “You never care how I feel.”
“It’s not personal; I’m incapable.”
Tell me why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why! Wh-why does it hurt so bad why, eh
Bradley
There’s no such thing as a happy ending. There’s no such thing as a happy life. There’s only sadness and grief. At least, that’s what I used to think before I met her.
Now there’s such thing as a happy ending. There’s happiness all around us in life. There’s more than just sadness and grief. There’s something in the air that makes me feel loved. Unfortunately, I’m still grieving over her death.
Walking down the leaf strewn path, crisp wind pulling on my hair. The cold is welcoming. Appropriate. There’s no specific reason to feel this way but I do. Torn between withdrawal and yearning I quietly continue on, carrying my hidden battle.
Rebekah
Grief is natural thing. To mourn the loss of something you held and still hold close to your heart. People should be given as much time as they want. No one is expected to get up and move on. People take their own time and grieve in different ways.
Pei Pei
They never tell you
how hard it hits
so many years after
for a broken dream
and thou you wish
it was more substantial than this
you have to hide unshed tears
once again
as it hits
It was so deep. This pain inside of her soul. She grieved and cried and struggled for the girl that she would never be. It was pathetic to hold on to past occurences and yet so needful at the same time. She cried out in the darkness and sobbed in broad daylight. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. She wanted children. She wanted to be happy one day. But now she couldn’t and she wouldn’t and she was gone.
Aimee
To grieve is to know sadness, a depth of feeling that drags you to the lowest trenches, the hollowest caverns. For some, a constant companion, almost a friend.
when I was young I was exposed to the feeling of grief. as I got older the more familiar I became with it. by now, I have made peace with it
Jenny
It was one of the strongest things she’d ever felt–this pull in her chest, this tightness in her gut, this numbness in her brain. She felt as if she was being dragged under with a cold current. She felt as if the world was falling apart around her.
Darby Pay
i feel guilt dripping down the tips of my fingers as I caress the shaking shoulders. no liquid comes out of my eyes to show that i am swayed with you as i stay with you. as you grief, all i do is behold the pain in your eyes and say i offer my condolences
what does it mean to grief for others? how do you come out of a lagging shell of self and embrace the pain of those you behold, and do you really know like you really say? or is just a social construct of performance that you learned that you had to play?
Grief spills out like a spring. It burns. And then cleanses. And I am well again.
April
grief is like all i can feel right now and the sky is tender grey like the way i imagine my eyes might look glossy clear and bright but grey. when i looked into your eyes yesterday they were grey and dark, unlike the bright sky that is grey and that is grief.
I stood looking into a face stricken with grief and anger. I didn’t know what to do about it. I just sat there holding her hand and fighting to keep my tears back.
Maggs
As I sit down to write you,
A bottle in my hand,
I can’t help but wish,
It held something stronger instead,
Of this cheap red wine,
And all my regrets,
But I guess when you love,
That’s all that’s left
Amanda
what’s wrong? he asked
my heart hurts, she said
he lifted her chin and closed her eyes with kisses that made no promises
it’s okay to grieve, he whispered
she smiled
such is the gift of understanding
Zaynab Aisha
we all deal with grief. it hurts to know that someone we once loved is gone so why wait and let it take over. live past your grief. its worth it.
Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. Every moment is unique and ephemeral. Why is everything so painful? Why can’t I find peace in the present, in whatever or wherever it is I’m at. Letting go of moments you never really loved is like an mediocre and perpetual grief. Everlast.
Macha Dubois
Still figuring out how this site works.
Zaynab Aisha
There are things that happen in our lives that cause us to fall apart. That falling apart is an important part of grief. I don’t think we spend enough time understanding the grieving process. It’s something I’ve been reflecting on a lot lately. All I know is that grief is a gift. It is what purifies and frees us.
Zaynab Aisha
so sad. crying. like the sad clown. I don’t cry when I grieve. I think crying is a way of letting go. but when I am so sad I can’t let go enough to cry. grief could be a large range of emotions. one could be angry, sad, shocked…. everyone’s grief is different, the only constant is that it is an intense emotional reaction to loss. loss.
mishka
Um…what am I suppose to comment on? My own work? Well…it’s just a bunch of words.
Barb
Grief is a dark word. There is no good to it. Why do I have to write about it? It’s something I do not want to wrap my mind around. Yet, here I am seeing the word in front of me. I wish none of us had to suffer from grief anymore and we could all be happy. That’s be nice. I wrote a poem on grief a long time ago. I deleted it though. I thought it was pretty good. Oh well. What else to write? Good grief!
Barb
My grief, initially, is loud like symbols crashing, later it quiets some, reverberating in waves, the ringing of which I still hear and feel in my soul, even though it’s been years. My grief doesn’t lessen with time, it merely quiets until I bump into a strong memory of you and the symbols clang once again and I crash into madness, into tears, into laughter, into smiles, into song: into all the beauty and the broken that was and still is your life and mine.
It’s an odd feeling to describe, especially to someone who has never experienced it. How do you put into words, how do you begin to explain what it is to be missing a part of yourself? What words properly convey the feeling of knowing that there is a piece of your heart that is now gone, and that you will never get it back? Where are the words for that tug every time, long after you thought you were done grieving for that sudden tug and reminder of all the pieces of yourself that you’re now missing?
I’m doing it wrong, I’m sure. But that’s the best I’ve got.
The priests and deacons and parishioners all tried to tell me what my grief was supposed to feel like. But I shut their words out like I would the cold, pulling down the fragile, frosty glass of my cerebral window and enjoying how much softer the wind seemed to roar against the pane. For hours on end, I would sit in my easy chair, reading the newspaper, cutting out words from the headlines that reminded me of her. Perhaps that was not what my fellow churchgoers thought of when they talked about sorrow or mourning, but for me, it felt like a proper idiosyncrasy, a personal and comfortable way to express myself without falling apart at the seams.
It consumes him. Mother dead at 42. Water, alcohol. Alone in the bathtub. Pushed everyone away. Even the ones that held him the closest. Grief became a veil that turned him into something completely different. Lost and blind to it all. Stage One.
GRIEF-an open wound, with the blood fresh and scabbed. Old and new injury to the same place. both of the heart and of expectation and of memory. the loss of spirit breath, the loss of hope, the loss of joy and will. a bruise to the spirit that threatens no healing.
Run away from it, as fast as you can. It’s not a friend. It visits everyone. Drops by always unexpectedly, in small doses or huge, overwhelming ones. The small ones bit, the huge ones try as hard as they can to put you in the grave, so the grief can continue. It lessens, but never leaves. It awakens in the leaves of autumn or to the sound of a song or the mention of a name or the simple utterance of a curse; you remember someone who said it exactly that same way. Keep it outside the door; when it knocks, let it in. Because it will open the door without you. You might as well lead the discussion.
nyla
Everyone expected me to be in full mourning, and to burst out in tears every two seconds. And everyone expected me to welcome them into my homes, with all the cookies and casseroles that they could provide. But grief affects us all differently, and not only was I not prone to tears, I just wanted to be alone, to go on walks in nature by myself and reflect on the time I shared with my beloved. I wanted to celebrate his life, not mourn his passing, and for some reason people made me feel like this was a bad thing.
Sadness
Pain
Suffering
loss
heart break
confusion
death
thanks
Grief is something we will all experience throughout the course of our life. It’s one of the most debilitating things…ever. It could be over something
grief is when your sad. Its the thought that fills you up when your sad about something. You feel re leaved. You just need to let all of the grief inside of you out.
It’s funny that this word appear today, as I am preparing for one process of grief after witnessing another process of grief that I was allowed to glimpse at only momentarily. I have been thinking a lot about this word lately and what it means to do this as an action, when it seems so passive, so atmospheric. But it’s a verb. And that changes everything.
Grief is a stage of denial. If grief wasn’t there, what would be? Sadness with no name? What is grief? Well it’s hard to explain.
The truth will strip me off of all things. But at least I will be relinquished from the lies. I wish death for me, no good in living with shame, guilt and self-reproach. But I am a coward to kill myself. Anyway, I am already dead inside with the remorse and disgrace that it brings with it. Even the sadness has left me…
“Oh don’t give me that.” He looked over at her. “There’s no reason for grief here.”
“That’s what you think. You’re not in my position, you don’t know how it feels to go through this.” She sobbed as she stared at him through her messy hair. “You never care how I feel.”
“It’s not personal; I’m incapable.”
Tell me why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why! Wh-why does it hurt so bad why, eh
There’s no such thing as a happy ending. There’s no such thing as a happy life. There’s only sadness and grief. At least, that’s what I used to think before I met her.
Now there’s such thing as a happy ending. There’s happiness all around us in life. There’s more than just sadness and grief. There’s something in the air that makes me feel loved. Unfortunately, I’m still grieving over her death.
Walking down the leaf strewn path, crisp wind pulling on my hair. The cold is welcoming. Appropriate. There’s no specific reason to feel this way but I do. Torn between withdrawal and yearning I quietly continue on, carrying my hidden battle.
Grief is natural thing. To mourn the loss of something you held and still hold close to your heart. People should be given as much time as they want. No one is expected to get up and move on. People take their own time and grieve in different ways.
They never tell you
how hard it hits
so many years after
for a broken dream
and thou you wish
it was more substantial than this
you have to hide unshed tears
once again
as it hits
It was so deep. This pain inside of her soul. She grieved and cried and struggled for the girl that she would never be. It was pathetic to hold on to past occurences and yet so needful at the same time. She cried out in the darkness and sobbed in broad daylight. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. She wanted children. She wanted to be happy one day. But now she couldn’t and she wouldn’t and she was gone.
To grieve is to know sadness, a depth of feeling that drags you to the lowest trenches, the hollowest caverns. For some, a constant companion, almost a friend.
when I was young I was exposed to the feeling of grief. as I got older the more familiar I became with it. by now, I have made peace with it
It was one of the strongest things she’d ever felt–this pull in her chest, this tightness in her gut, this numbness in her brain. She felt as if she was being dragged under with a cold current. She felt as if the world was falling apart around her.
i feel guilt dripping down the tips of my fingers as I caress the shaking shoulders. no liquid comes out of my eyes to show that i am swayed with you as i stay with you. as you grief, all i do is behold the pain in your eyes and say i offer my condolences
what does it mean to grief for others? how do you come out of a lagging shell of self and embrace the pain of those you behold, and do you really know like you really say? or is just a social construct of performance that you learned that you had to play?
Grief spills out like a spring. It burns. And then cleanses. And I am well again.
grief is like all i can feel right now and the sky is tender grey like the way i imagine my eyes might look glossy clear and bright but grey. when i looked into your eyes yesterday they were grey and dark, unlike the bright sky that is grey and that is grief.
I stood looking into a face stricken with grief and anger. I didn’t know what to do about it. I just sat there holding her hand and fighting to keep my tears back.
As I sit down to write you,
A bottle in my hand,
I can’t help but wish,
It held something stronger instead,
Of this cheap red wine,
And all my regrets,
But I guess when you love,
That’s all that’s left
what’s wrong? he asked
my heart hurts, she said
he lifted her chin and closed her eyes with kisses that made no promises
it’s okay to grieve, he whispered
she smiled
such is the gift of understanding
we all deal with grief. it hurts to know that someone we once loved is gone so why wait and let it take over. live past your grief. its worth it.
grifado, grid , grifo, gravado, graduado guardado, grudado, grelhado, guardado, grudado, gril, grilo,
Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. Every moment is unique and ephemeral. Why is everything so painful? Why can’t I find peace in the present, in whatever or wherever it is I’m at. Letting go of moments you never really loved is like an mediocre and perpetual grief. Everlast.
Still figuring out how this site works.
There are things that happen in our lives that cause us to fall apart. That falling apart is an important part of grief. I don’t think we spend enough time understanding the grieving process. It’s something I’ve been reflecting on a lot lately. All I know is that grief is a gift. It is what purifies and frees us.
so sad. crying. like the sad clown. I don’t cry when I grieve. I think crying is a way of letting go. but when I am so sad I can’t let go enough to cry. grief could be a large range of emotions. one could be angry, sad, shocked…. everyone’s grief is different, the only constant is that it is an intense emotional reaction to loss. loss.
Um…what am I suppose to comment on? My own work? Well…it’s just a bunch of words.
Grief is a dark word. There is no good to it. Why do I have to write about it? It’s something I do not want to wrap my mind around. Yet, here I am seeing the word in front of me. I wish none of us had to suffer from grief anymore and we could all be happy. That’s be nice. I wrote a poem on grief a long time ago. I deleted it though. I thought it was pretty good. Oh well. What else to write? Good grief!
My grief, initially, is loud like symbols crashing, later it quiets some, reverberating in waves, the ringing of which I still hear and feel in my soul, even though it’s been years. My grief doesn’t lessen with time, it merely quiets until I bump into a strong memory of you and the symbols clang once again and I crash into madness, into tears, into laughter, into smiles, into song: into all the beauty and the broken that was and still is your life and mine.
It’s an odd feeling to describe, especially to someone who has never experienced it. How do you put into words, how do you begin to explain what it is to be missing a part of yourself? What words properly convey the feeling of knowing that there is a piece of your heart that is now gone, and that you will never get it back? Where are the words for that tug every time, long after you thought you were done grieving for that sudden tug and reminder of all the pieces of yourself that you’re now missing?
I’m doing it wrong, I’m sure. But that’s the best I’ve got.
The priests and deacons and parishioners all tried to tell me what my grief was supposed to feel like. But I shut their words out like I would the cold, pulling down the fragile, frosty glass of my cerebral window and enjoying how much softer the wind seemed to roar against the pane. For hours on end, I would sit in my easy chair, reading the newspaper, cutting out words from the headlines that reminded me of her. Perhaps that was not what my fellow churchgoers thought of when they talked about sorrow or mourning, but for me, it felt like a proper idiosyncrasy, a personal and comfortable way to express myself without falling apart at the seams.
Good grief if wish the grief would go away
Grief
It consumes him. Mother dead at 42. Water, alcohol. Alone in the bathtub. Pushed everyone away. Even the ones that held him the closest. Grief became a veil that turned him into something completely different. Lost and blind to it all. Stage One.
GRIEF-an open wound, with the blood fresh and scabbed. Old and new injury to the same place. both of the heart and of expectation and of memory. the loss of spirit breath, the loss of hope, the loss of joy and will. a bruise to the spirit that threatens no healing.
Run away from it, as fast as you can. It’s not a friend. It visits everyone. Drops by always unexpectedly, in small doses or huge, overwhelming ones. The small ones bit, the huge ones try as hard as they can to put you in the grave, so the grief can continue. It lessens, but never leaves. It awakens in the leaves of autumn or to the sound of a song or the mention of a name or the simple utterance of a curse; you remember someone who said it exactly that same way. Keep it outside the door; when it knocks, let it in. Because it will open the door without you. You might as well lead the discussion.
Everyone expected me to be in full mourning, and to burst out in tears every two seconds. And everyone expected me to welcome them into my homes, with all the cookies and casseroles that they could provide. But grief affects us all differently, and not only was I not prone to tears, I just wanted to be alone, to go on walks in nature by myself and reflect on the time I shared with my beloved. I wanted to celebrate his life, not mourn his passing, and for some reason people made me feel like this was a bad thing.