The wise ones 

I’ll scream and cry,

Until I’m entirely alone.

In my self-inflicted cage,

I’ll lash at walls,

And scratch at flesh

With all the fierceness and intensity

Of the possessed.

A beast, avoided,

Suffocating itself 

With hate, hate and rage.

My insides red raw, gushing,

Spitting bile and words,

Screaming to be heard,

But no one is there to hear.

They left long before this,

When the outbursts began, they ran.

The wise ones.

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One comment

  1. The Grief Geek · June 28, 2015

    Reblogged this on The Grief Geek and commented:
    For me, this incredibly powerful piece articulately summarises how some of us feel when someone we love deeply dies.

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