Flower Garden Factory

Category: Grief

  • The wind

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in

    you’re there as the wind flutters my shirt the flame on your alter is your deep breath white sheets are our relationship cloth – comforting, soothing, wrapping 2 individuals into one tableau the coffee waits for you on your night stand my hands blind search for your tattoos there you are just beyond my reach…

  • The end of the road

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in ,

    Yesterday after my doctors appointment I realized my health situation is just like your death. There is no remedy. No drugs to make it better. This is the situation. Stop beating your head against the wall – anger emitting from your cells that no one is listening. They are listening. They have no answers. Just…

  • Owler

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in , ,

    With wide glassy mirror eyes, I greet the horizon. A wet, cloudy horizon hanging over a turbulent sea. Safely in bed, cat at my side, dog sleeping on my leg…darkness surrounds the bedroom. The candle is lit upon your alter. It’s calling you home, back to this world. We’re both being called back to this…

  • Puff

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in ,

    Last night with a heavy head, looking in the mirror I notice under the left eye a lump bump sag – it ached. A single area of my body encapsulated how I’m feeling these days. One more ailment. I never used to be like this. I now have a before times… you were alive, I…

  • …with a start

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in , ,

    5 am: walking down the stairs tailing the parade of dog cat, anxiety and fear drop in and rush me to fix. Fix now. The urge is … not an urge really but more like a spasm of the unknown. Fill it now. figures add up and I expect to have the answer – now…

  • Dancing

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in ,

    The kitchen is home to our ghosts. Dancing still as our supper simmers on the stove. You in my arms – I in yours – hand around your waist, my left hand in holding gently onto your right hand. Chest to chest. Your eyes are there floating in the air – staining at me –…

  • Trigger finger

    Trigger finger

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in ,

    Once the trigger has been pulled there’s no going back. No way to stop the waves of emotions, memories and false narratives from floating about. Like a paint gun splashes of color exploding on my skin, shirt, face, and groin. Talking myself through the possibilities. Giving voice to the explosions against my body. I had…

  • Fist

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in

    With tenderness gently caressing my right hand to open up. Balling into a fist at jolting traumatic memories triggered by adjusting the bedside table closer to the bed. I breathe into it – the rush of a thousand hours of ache, worry, fear, death – the loss of you, us, me in the single movement.…

  • Ache

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in , ,

    My body is the Leaning Town of Pisa, The sinking city of Venice, The remains of Notre Dame after the fire. It aches, creaks and is off balance. My body no longer feels like home base but a turbulent flight I must endure. Eyes closed I breathe deep, seeing where the jolt of unease and…

  • Enact

    —

    by

    b2c-fgf
    in , ,

    The way my body and mind are tracking these days, I’m bound to make mistakes, rush, through clouds of fog – do my best at the moment. But what if now – just for now – I complete a task and wait. Wait. Review. Then send. What if instead of thinking FOR someone, you brake…