No more than fringe,
dangling in the aftermath,
waiting to unravel,
too numb to tighten bonds.

Will you take my hand,
offer compassion,
listen with me
to the discordant silence,
be my faith?

(Written for Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt: fringe)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

13 thoughts on “Grief

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