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Oct 30, 2025
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Strong Enough
Grief comes on like muscle memory.
Pushing its way through
my crowded defenses,
passing time, distraction,
and a complexity of scars
to bring me low again.
Better memories, like the cavalry
just in time, see you joyful, and I know
my pockets are not empty.
I hope the seams hold.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
Candlewitch
5 months 3 weeks ago
Dear Michael,
I know this feeling well... it comes in layers of pain. I am pleased the poem ends with a hopeful heart.
very fondly, Cat
Geezer
5 months 3 weeks ago
Grief...
comes on like muscle memory, yeah, I don't think that we ever get totally over with grief; it's a constant presence, that lies in wait, for a weak moment; a trigger of 'used to be' and the realization that it is no more. But if we gather sweet memories with our loved ones while we and they are still here, we have a cushion. I love the message of loving so hard, that it weighs the pockets of whoever carries it. Good stuff, ~ Geez.
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