Grief

Grief’s a bastard. 
Turns up no notice on the doorstep whenever 
moves in doesn’t shower doesn’t shave 
won’t do dishes 
dirty laundry 
eats badly spends hours in the bathroom 
keeps you awake half the night 
shows no consideration 
puts a filter on all the views 
no matter how sunny it gets 
the place still looks like shit. 

Grief’s a bastard. 
Talks long distance drinks too much overmedicates can’t finish a book 
keeps flipping channels mutes the sound 
turns down the colour 
’til it’s all washed out 
faded away. 

Grief will travel anywhere in the world to be with you 
nothing too extravagant for Grief 
can take the whole sky 
paint it bloodred demolish cities 
call down storms 
turn forests to sawdust 
punch holes in mountain ranges 
bedroom doors. 

Speaks for you 
whether you like it or not 
even though there’s nothing left to say 
and no words left to say it with 
roars furious flails around 
when you ask him how things are the fucker tells you 
trails along behind on walks 
dead-eyed pathetic shuffles 
’til you wait up and turn 
taking a deep breath 
knowing what’s coming. 

Gets old acts distant suddenly doesn’t call for weeks 
then comes over with too much whiskey and a bag of crappy 
skunkweed just to keep you on your toes. 
Jumps you in an alley after a movie 
and while he’s beating you says 
we must keep working on this relationship.