I could have touched it;
this absence of you.
The way it grew, a small stone
laying heavy
twisting my insides.
My head bent
by conspiracy
scarred by memories,
fought gravitation.
Split open in the backwash,
grazed in the aftermath
fragments of me
were scattered.
Loneliness crushed
tomorrow.













Grief is palpable. We can physically feel it. It IS heavy, like a stone lodged in our hearts, weighing us down, keeping us below the surface. It is a destroyer of worlds, a silencer of words. It is a very precious, private thing; even if someone loses the same person you do, they will "deal with it" differently. This is an eloquent ache of a poem, my Friend. Oh, how I wish for your peace. Good luck in Zayra's contest, Sweetie. 
35 old applause
