…is an art form

Pain is a river, constant and flowing
yet feeling nothing, it is what I seek
a place to hide, a place of silence
where nothing speaks but the whispers of loss
the darkness falls suddenly
an unexpected eclipse of the light
now I am emptiness personified
love and loss, two sides of the same coin
one cannot exist without the other
I am never free, your absence a heavy weight
a vast void that clings to me like a second skin
in this desolate place, it is I that is lost
for I have become the ghost
an ancient memory, adrift in the eddies of time
I walk the halls, empty and cold
my footsteps don’t echo in the emptiness
a reminder of all that is gone
memories slip through my fingers
I cannot catch them before they vanish
all that remains is pain
days are endless, nights are longer
I cling to the darkness like the last leaf clings to a barren tree
grief is an art form
a relentless process of letting go and holding on
finding beauty in my brokenness
my hands ever stained, ashes to ashes dust to dust
you gave me life, you gave me love
time, an endless cycle that cannot be denied
no-one escapes the reaper
transmutation, from living to not
alchemised by sorrow, made glass, made empty
ever at risk of breaking
for every gain there must be a loss
© Ann Bagnall