How can I know the pain of your loss?

 

This tiny bud,

not yet formed.

Incomplete.

 

The blood.

The emptiness.

The anticipation.

The tears hidden away:

undisclosed, embarrassment,

shame.

 

Light through a window,

but it is dark.

 

Not the first time.

Perhaps not the last.

The circle of joy to despair.

 

The thoughts about what

could have been.

Memories. Dreams.

Imagination cut short.

The ‘if only’ that bites.

 

I will take you now to a

garden with flowers and let

you smell the scent and

remember the pain and the

beauty, the dreams and the

loss that cannot be reconciled,

but I am here and you are with me.

 

There is nothing to do but touch.

 

10/12/2025