Grief Doesn't Wait for a Date
In the grocery aisle.
A shared joke.
A quiet morning.
The second mug.
A voicemail saved.
Handwritten notes.
Mail addressed.
The Polaroids.
The painting.
An unexpected song.
Grief doesn’t wait for anniversaries.
It lives in the moments left behind.
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El Bzaz
I write poetry in my spare time, usually when something clicks or catches my attention. Just whatever feels worth putting into words.
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Anchored in concrete personal objects; grief abstracted but grounded in specific memories.
Dense catalog of images and ideas compressed into brief lines; rapid accumulation.
Melancholic and sorrowful; absence and loss dominate despite tender imagery.
Staccato fragments create rhythmic intensity; restrained emotion beneath surface.
Approximately 13 lines; falls in 7-15 range but closer to micro.
Personification of grief; metaphoric weight in objects; poetic compression throughout.
Pure lyric internal voice; intimate first-person perspective on loss and memory.
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