Grief – Aly Writes

Unexpected Inspiration

Trying to write in the aftermath of grief is harder than I ever imagined it would be. Good stories demand emotional resonance. Writing something worth reading requires tapping into the same well of memories and feelings where the grief resides, raw and ready to spill over.

Jellyfish

Now I’m a bag adrift in this never-ending sea
Trying to remember how it ever felt to breathe

January’s Quiet Lies

And only time can turn a wound into a scar
And only scars remain of old mistakes
But still, I am what I have done

Though the Smoke May Lift

Tear down the four walls of this time-stopped room
and set me free.
Let flames lick clean the bones of what we knew,
and when there’s nothing left but this stabbing pain,
let me feel nothing.

And Still the Planet Burns

We must evacuate alike; we all will suffer loss, equal now if only in our devastation. Our memories go up in smoke as we flee. What are we running to? There is no future.

Candy Floss Concerns

We make political statements with cupcakes
While half the world burns
They can’t rebuild their broken lives
With our candy floss concerns

There’s a Fist-Sized Hole in the Kitchen Window

It’s that kind of day where you pray for a whisper of a breeze to kiss the beads of sweat that sting your eyes. You don’t move a muscle, lying on the dock, fingers trailing in tepid water. The lump of a secret too huge to swallow grows in your throat until you think you’llContinue reading “There’s a Fist-Sized Hole in the Kitchen Window”

Quietly Important

She’s quietly important, but
She’s on the brink
I can feel her slipping away