I Was Not Made to Weep

by on February 16, 2024 :: 0 comments

My chest heaves.
My eyes yearn to release
a deluge of tears,
when there is so much repressed grief.

I sob the disappointments of forty years,
yet I do not know why what is supposed to bring relief
exhausts me.
I was not made to weep.

It is not an incident that sneaks out of a mound
of buried memories,
not a single face whose features nauseate,
not a single word that is sharper
than an executioner’s blade,
not the loss of love, friends, and peace.
It is the festering wounds in my consciousness
that refuse to bleed.

editors note:

For some, grief gives no relief until that final rest is reached. – mh clay

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