Feeling loss
Is a natural release.
It is sorrow that flows effortlessly.
To lose people who were never really your friends,
Is like exfoliating dead skin;
There’s still a little trauma
Where the new flesh is slightly red and tender
From it happening so suddenly and a bit roughly and all at once.
My world is now smaller, but better and brighter.
I am not lonely;
Simply alone.
The path is clear,
The ground is firm,
My gait is steady,
My shoes are new
yet broken-in.
My hand is empty.
No one is holding it,
But I still feel whole.
I am ready to step forward
Through the messy papery clutter,
Where the ground is littered
With receipts and old party favors.
I step on them with my sturdy, sure feet,
My pasts, my old lives, my vintage traumas, trampled,
But I still stride easily.
Not stopping to pick anything up…
Anyways
The trash man comes on Wednesday.
Love it!! Beautiful imagery
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