Grief /Poem
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This is how I have dealt
With grief most of my life
sharing it on paper
instead of humans
It feels safe that way,
words don't feign sympathy
and paper doesn't stutter
It makes the grief feel projected
As if happening to another person,
Not me, never me, never now
As if I am a mere character
in a distant story
As if the grief will end
after the full stop, after the end
As if fiction will drown reality
And reality seem fictitious
But of late, of late
the fiction seems to be a maze
A maze I have spent too long in
A period longer than forever
And now, it is too late
to get out of and for
human touch.
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