In Here, sitting with indifference that sits in itself with heartache, I care little about interaction; social nuances. In Here, my lips pull down, my face a reflection of the sadness that wells in my heart. I am wrapped in my own wings, shuddering, comforted by their softness. They feel as if to say, “It’s ok, little one, take the loss, absorb it, let it swirl around inside of you until you feel its passing. Care nothing for anything except those that you can see and touch and talk to. Everything else is unnecessary.” So I curl up inside, buffeted by grief that slammed into me unannounced. It came from a direction I would never have thought possible, and by means I cannot comprehend. From a point along my journey so long ago that reaches every day into the life I live.
In Here, it’s just sorrow.