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I’m on a hill
in a high gale.
A concrete box
my prison cell.
A raging storm
a screaming woman
all alone.

The wind’s a razor
I howl.
I have invented grief.
It’s mine
I own it.

Down you get
you interlopers!
You know nothing!
All of pain is mine!
All the pain in the world
is mine!
It belongs to me.

I rise up.
The wind buffets me
I soar away on grief.
The world looks very small.
Nothing to me!
I inhabit a region
of wind and ice
a hollowness.

You don’t know how I feel!
Leave me alone!
I don’t want your sympathy!
Fuck off!

◄ The Hospital

my mum ►


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Chris Dawson

Sat 12th Dec 2009 22:50

Losing someone so important to you from your life it does feel like all the pain in the world is yours, glad you're feeling a bit better now.
Movingly hard to read work,

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sat 5th Dec 2009 16:02

I think this is a great poem - really honest in its exposure of the individualism of grief. I believe it's the flip side of the 'love - nobody knows but me' syndrome. And that's how it should be - constant reinvention. Superb ending.

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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 20:09

loved the poem Ann,angry sentiments! now I,ll just go and eff off!-regards young-ish? Lady-Stef

<Deleted User> (7073)

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 19:45

Now that's what I call a shock ending !! ;-)) and you are so sweet too ;-))

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Ann Foxglove

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 19:00

This was where I was at a year ago - feeling a bit better now thank you

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