The Thing about Grief


The Thing about Grief


The thing about grief is…


It’s not clean…


And by that I mean…


It’s not a river you can control


It’s not something that stays in it’s lane


All neat + tidy


No, when it hits you, it takes you over


You’re moved by it


Tossed around by it


Wrecked by it


Until you wash up onto shore


Like a drenched river-whore…


It’d be nice if our pain was tidy…


Knew how to clean itself up


But it doesn’t


It’s like spilled paint


It floods and gets everywhere


It seeps into the cracks


It blankets your bones + leaves messy tracks…


Until you surrender


And the thing is…


You don’t just grieve about one thing…


Your aches don’t wait to be heard


They don’t line up + take a number


When your heart is broken open


It’s wide


All that belongs there finds its way inside


You’ll be forced to feel all the places till


Where you’re harboring hatred or trying to hide


Are washed clean…


By suicide…


No grief is not a tidy visitor


And it just might overstay


But in its wild rushing way


It heals you


It purifies


It unburdens your heart in the most gut-wrenching way


No life is not tidy


It’s messy, it’s true…


But let it break you open


Flood you till your full


Rinsed of all that’s BLUE


For that, my friends is the way out


That my friends, is the only way through



Listen to Rachel Claire speak this poem here:




Thank you for joining with me today.


All my love,


Rachel Claire




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