Highlighted Poetry
Grief in a Cup
I practiced grief
in a cup
every bruise,
sunderance,
held in the palm
like something sacred.
I sipped to remember.
Felt the bitterness
meet my lip.
then let it fall
down the drain
watched it go
and leave me,
and mourned it,
the way you mourn
even what hurt you.
but the cup emptied
is a cup
waiting
and I filled it
with something that tasted
like morning,
like a crisp
spring day
and it wasn’t bitter,
and it wasn’t bitter.
fade away.
I’m watching
you f a d e
a w a y.
and all I wish
is to fa d e
w i t h y o u
b u t I’m here
waiting
for you
t o f a d e b a c k i n t o
m y l i f e
and meet me
at the point
I’m anchored.
though, now
I m a fra i d
I m
f a d i n g t o o
sand.
i am built
out of sand
leave myself
soft to you
let you mold me
to your container
and then when
you take it away
so easy
do i crumble.
and you did
take it away
and so
i crumble
now nothing
can shape me
even when held
grains slip behind fingers
and without a container
i crumble, crumble
crumble.