It was upon those rocky shores

On top of the craggy rock

Overlooking the tumultuous shore

Of water rushing onto the sand

And swiping at the blood there

That the salt bit at the wound

A closed gash

That burned with the heat of the flames that broke her home. 

 

They hit her with hands

That have half-crescents dug into the palms

And dirt forever-clenched 

That found its way under the fingernails.

 

Sorrow turned her heart black

Crumbling red edges

Falling into her lungs

And for her grief

She finds nothing but rot

Her life crumbles to dust around her.

 

It is vibrant

After the fall of her family

Two brought closer by the loss of the third

But then split like a bomb at its trigger.

 

They left

Her house is lonely

Her bed was burned in the flames

And left cold on one side

Her fridge was torn apart

And her last meal remains in the oven

Baking for decades on end

Without friend, without family, without purpose

Away from a home that longs for love,

She walks the hills.

 

She stumbles up the slopes

She yells the words that threaten to drown her 

She takes the hits that sting

She feels the wound close 

The hits open it

But only for a moment

Reopened by those with no scars

But bleeding cuts

She cannot find enough.

 

Her constant companion

Grief,

Is leaving her

Just like the others.

 

And without grief,

Without her last friend,

Holding her hand,

Tearing apart her couch cushions,

Unmaking the bed,

Where shall she go?

To rebuild burnt bridges

With nothing but the grief of the loss of grief?

 

Where does she go

But to a home

She cannot return to.