The sheer weight of it

I am trying to learn how to carry this grief.
It is oppressive and unyielding and I want to be free of it.
Can you take it for a day please? An hour would work if a day is too much.
Carrying love is easy
light as a feather,
warm like sunlight on my skin.

Grief is love too, so they say,
but it’s heavier and sharper.
I struggle to hold it without collapsing.

It presses down on my chest
so that I’m gasping for air and my heart screeches in agony.
Other days it’s still heavy
a weight strapped across my shoulders
but I can function.
I can make dinner,
make plans,
answer emails,
even laugh.
But it never leaves.

It waits in the quiet hours,
in the spaces between words,
reminding me of all I’ve lost.

I’m learning
slowly, imperfectly
how to be with this burden.
How to let it ride along beside me
How to let it sit in the room
without giving it every inch of my heart.

But I can do this.
I will do this.
Because grief is the proof
that love was real.
And if I must carry it,
I will carry it. Always.
Even when it breaks me open.
Even when it feels too much.
Even when I am tired
of learning how.

Louise Boddy

Louise BoddyLouise Boddy is from Buckinghamshire, England. A novice writer, this poem is one of many written in the wake of her daughter Hannah’s death at the end of last year. She died suddenly at the age of 27 from SUDEP (Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy) and since then, writing has become a way of dealing with the unbearable.


Poetry has become the place where Louise can find solace and peace as she strives to give shape to the most awful pain. Her writing is raw, honest and from the heart.

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