Fingernails

I’m grasping, clawing,

For anything that brings comfort.

It has been raining every day,

Since the day you died six years ago.

Why this grief, so deep again?

As deep as the day of, the days and weeks after, that terrible day.

In every inch of my body,

It feels as if my life force is slipping away,

The same way yours did,

Despite my every effort to pull yours back,

Towards life, towards me.

I wish your hand were here,

To hold mine as I held yours.

I wish you could sit beside me,

As I sat beside you,

Our warm companionship,

A blessing to us both.

And I hesitate to express this here,

Because it causes loved ones to worry,

Those who have been caring enough to read these words, torn from my heart,

And witness the pain,

Knowing they cannot fix it,

And try to send words of encouragement,

That are so dear, and still, so unhelpful.

Why can’t we witness grief,

Allow it’s expression,

And say, “Oh honey, how difficult the loss,

The longing. I hear you, I am with you.”

And leave it at that.

I don’t want advice, I don’t want inspirational quotes,

I want to weep, and tear the garments,

And cover myself in ashes.

I want you!

And maybe wailing and keening,

Is the only thing that will help,

In this time when I am hanging,

Hanging by my fingernails,

Trying to reach for the life that seems to have left me.