Written by Kanza Naseem
Death is hard. We have lived to see people in pain, and watched them deteriorate into nothing. In the end all we are left with are memories, like deep cuts in our skin which scar so horribly, every time they are touched they bleed, seems as though the cut becomes deeper, similar to how we fall so far deep, in to water. The fear of it all takes over. Suddenly you can’t seem to breathe, somewhere, somehow we are supposed to learn that its just life, and this is the way it works. We never do, there is no time, ‘bury heads in sand, but our future’s in our hands, it means nothing, if I haven’t got you’.
A persons touch can leave you breathless. Every aching moment when they pass away makes no sense. For a while you just want everything to stop. You want to stop zhurting and feeling pain, just until everything is over, so you don’t have to deal with it. It’s natural. ‘That’s enough for now’
Everybody moves on, it be too soon for some. We like to hold on, clutch onto hope, so tightly, that we forget what people meant to others. We went slowly we took it easy, we stood still. Somehow we forget that others didn’t, they did not stop, and wait for emotion. They persevered, their grief is over, ours has just begun. We mourn what we have lost, on our own, sometimes its better this way, no body understands now. Grief meant their problems have disappeared (not), they let go to soon, we were not ready. Now we are. ‘And I’ve been knocking but no one answers
And I’ve been knocking most all the day.’
Time is a healer, we are supposed to understand, not forget. We never do, its easier to forget to get caught up, with other things, to bury ourselves with work, tasks things to accomplish, goals, a light to chase. Its all fear of some sort, how can we understand it? For it takes over everything, its seeps in to every empty crack, there is no balance, no way, or one to stop it. In summer we plant our seeds and hope to watch them prosper in to something beautiful, a sweet pear, and oozing ‘tamato’ 😉 a flower, we are consumed in their beauty. We forget come autumn they will fall, and disappear, in to the winds they blow, where they end up nobody knows, everything is meant to fade. ‘He must have been a gardener that cared a lot. Who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop, Now we pray for rain, and with every drop that falls. We hear, we hear your name’ ♥ We are blinded by lights, which make things look easy. Feelings are not. They take over. They don’t make sense they make things difficult.
This is reality, it’s your grief, and it’s allowed; this is your life. It hurts and sometimes it’s supposed to, it bruises but somehow you have to feel it, you have to deal with it, fear is uncontrollable, but it always will be. Use your pain to come out the other side stronger and always remember someone’s watching over you.