I’ve been trying new ways to deal with shared grief. My partner and I have struggled this year, but we’ve made do well enough. Spent most of our Friday night discussing grief and its intricacies. Plotting it, enacting theory, harping on a singular question: shouldn’t I be better at this? If I shoulder so much weight, have experienced so much loss and grief, should I not have improved in my ability to administer it? Or perhaps more importantly, shouldn’t I be better at helping others through theirs? A tireless endeavor but one of significant worth, real world applications, potential ROI, shareholder value. So here I am trying narrative poetry theory. I will use the title above as chapters or perhaps letters in an epistolary novel (shout out to Shelley).

The first foray:

Clearly designed for my Instagram but they strike well enough on the page.

More to come.