grief
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I dreamt he walked around the corner…And when his eyes found mine,we froze there for a moment,eyes already brimming with tearsbefore either of us could speak. Not from sorrow,but from recognition. We ran to each otherlike two lost things finally returned.Arms wrapped tight enoughto hold back time itself. Familiarity I hadn’t tasted in far, far…
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I’ve lost nine people in thirteen months. At a certain point, grief stops feeling like an occasional visitor and starts feeling atmospheric.
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Not all famines strike the belly. Some live beneath the ribcage, where marrow aches for what it’s never given.
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Written by Shelly Moore ©️ 2025 🕊️ I. Why I’m Writing This. My dad died in April. We celebrated his life two days ago. This is fresh. Fresh fresh. This isn’t a Hallmark sermon or an attempt to convert you to my worldview. Far from. It’s my honest effort to explain — to myself, mostly,…
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