Grief is

…. a slow crush from all sides.

…. the tsunami I am holding back until some of the other things settle down a bit and it can break.

…. the pea under my mattress, as I wake each morning, surprised that my body isn’t showing the bruises of my heart.

…. the invader of my dreams. Red Twin is always there right next to me until I wake up.

…. a dodgy battery, the kind you laboriously charge up and you only have 5% power half an hour later.

…. a puffer fish. It takes so little for its spines to stab at others.

…. blindness. Arms out in front, searching for something to grasp onto. How can I know where my next step should be?

…. lost keys, forgotten phone, cakes unbaked.

…. a silverfish which has eaten half the words in the dictionary, leaving blanks in my sentences.

…. weights tied to all the muscles in my face. I thought I was smiling when Elliot pointed the camera at me, but the face of woman in the photo wasn’t.

Categories: Written by Tamie

Tagged as: grief metaphor Red Twin

Tamie Davis

Tamie Davis is an Aussie living in Tanzania, writing at meetjesusatuni.com.