Independence shackles! It leaves you flailing.
My dependency ended with my mom taking away my rights to be her child.
Her passing forced me to be free.
How does grief feel? Like a geyser erupting without warning.
How does grief feel? Like someone put a lid on the geyser,
and the force-shutting is gurgling all day, simmering and seething the insides.
The night geyser punctures the heart.
The deathly silence foams and roars,
ebbing and exhaling my grief at the same time.
Regrets surface, tears find a way to die.
NaPoWriMo Day 10
Prompt: Write your own meditation on grief. Try using Brock’s form as the “container” for your poem: a few short stanzas, with a middle section in which a question is repeated with different answers given.
prachi jain 