poetry

flower shade

flower shade

give.

me.

rest.

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questioning

night

Why are you downcast, oh my soul?

Why so disturbed within me?

I have a deep maddening desire to be creative again. It seems like I can barely get those words out of my mouth though; I have to pull each letter out one by one and they get stuck in my teeth.

Why does it hurt so much more some days? God?

Do you hear me God? It’s me, Liz.

 

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Truth Absolutely

Grief

“For in grief nothing “stays put.” One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?

But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?

How often — will it be for always? — how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, “I never realized my loss till this moment”? The same leg is cut off time after time.” – C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed 

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