Grief is love with no place to go.
Heavy in your throat and sinking deep into your gut, its all the love left behind by the departed. All the love you had for them left in their fast fading warmth.
Grief unfortunately is also frank lessons and realisations.
When grieving, you are faced with the regrets of the imperfect nature of man, of all failings in your life and relations.
No lies or comforts can comfort the numbing destruction of grief where life collapses.
The stepping stones of grief are crumbling as you stand; a precarious balance as you try to navigate through it and around the grief of others.
Grieving reveals a different kind of loneliness; an isolation in a crowd different to depression or anxiety.
Grieving is for the living. Its the turmoil death in the absence of life, where death is the only escape.
We lose, and they rest.
All consuming, all I want is sleep. Because nothing else makes sense.