Grief as a Companion

We lay on the warm grass

idly watching the clouds pass by,

Grief and I.

We’ve been friends forever.

I gathered up some courage.

I’m scared of you, I said,

staring at the sky.

I still can’t look her in the eye.

Why? she questioned,

gently holding my hand.

You are a harsh teacher, I replied.

But you’ve learnt so much from me, she sighed.

I nodded. I agree.

I hated you so much at first.

Your face felt scary and old,

so many scars, such piercing eyes.

I’m mesmerized by your beauty now though,

and I think of you as my own.

But..I paused.

What is it? she prodded.

Every time you teach me something,

the lesson starts with a gut punch.

I know there are more lessons to come

and I don’t know if I have it in me

to get up anymore.

And that thought terrifies me.

She just smiled.

And I did too,

mine was shaky though.

And we just went back to watching the clouds,

two old friends,

a teacher and a student.

Poetry by Michelle

@michelle.sen12345

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