…my grief hidden

Within these walls
solitude has become my sanctuary
the slow ache of undeniable loss
flows just beneath the surface
the cold touch of empty spaces
these blue rains of pain
unravelling thoughts that fill me to overflowing
spiralling again into the depths of sorrow
the music of all that has been lost
playing quietly on endless repeat
I am the ballerina on an ancient music box
spinning around and around
to the tinkling sound, a parody of dance
my performance a facade of grace
my grief hidden in the shadows on my face
© Ann Bagnall