Grief is love, searching for a new home

grief is love, searching for a new home,

and love this big, was never meant to disappear quietly.

it can start before loss reaches finality,

when we feel the goodbye,

and lose pieces while they are still here,

when our nervous system braces for impact,

for a future we cannot yet bear.

grief is anger,

at what was taken too soon, and the silence left behind,

a desperation, an ache, a yearning,

confusion for how the world keeps turning,

grief is numbness, a shutdown to survive,

when nothing feels quite real,

and sometimes we don't want to feel at all.

grief is guilt, for words that remained unsaid.

for moments we'd love to rewrite.

and sometimes, grief is laughter,

the memories that flood us,

and remind us love still has a home.

grief doesn't ask permission, and it can leave us undone,

no rhythm, no rules, and sometimes without warning.

grief is loud, and painful, and sacred,

and grief is love, searching for a new home.

learning to stay, even after they're gone.