Grief Calls Itself Indulgence

Sarah Kalam


Grief doesn’t always call itself grief.
Some days, it breaks everything in its sight and calls itself Rage.
Then looks at the wreckage, and calls itself Monster.

Grief hates a spectacle but can’t help itself becoming one.

Grief wakes with a knife in its heart;
Piercing exactly where it let the dead slip.

Grief stops eating.

Weak and nimble,
Grief moves on.
Showers, puts on fresh clothes;
A shape-shifter laughing at parties.


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