when your sky fell
swaddling you breathless
in the blackness
August sun rubbing
salt in your wounds
you laid still
while fools fumbled
reckless with your heart
grief is like a monster
you wear on your face
and they run like you’re godzilla
but you were a flower once
now dying in front of them
petal by petal and in ways
they can’t fathom
still they pick…
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
“so you round up the usual suspects”
clueless, gutless,
they don’t care less
but none of them fit the mold
they keep painting you in pink
as your pigment pales
on the other side
of rose coloured glasses
I am your host for Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub.
We are writing poems that include a movie quote.
“so you round up the usual suspects” – Casablanca, 1942
Doors open at 3 p.m. EST
mishunderstood 
Great opening lines, Mish! I love the phrase ‘August sun rubbing salt in your wounds’, the alliterative ‘fools fumbled reckless with your heart’, and the picked petal metaphor.
Thank you, Kim. 🙂
I love how you really captured the playact of emotions that really don’t mean anything… giving comforting platitudes… I can almost hear someone saying “thought and prayers”
Exactly! I really like your comment on this. So much more we can do besides those empty words.Thank you, Bjorn.
Well I certainly felt this, especially the second stanza:
‘grief is like a monster
you wear on your face
and they run like you’re godzilla’
Seems like nobody wants to deal with someone else’s grief. I know the feeling of grieving and people not really being able to cope or knowing what to say.
It’s frustrating, isn’t it? Feels like it should be a simpler task to just be there to listen, validate or help in some small way. Thank you, Ingrid.
Oh Mish, this is absolutely gorgeous- the ache, the angst, the depth of wanting to overcome is all so palpable here. I am especially moved by the close; “they don’t care less but none of them fit the mold they keep painting you in pink as your pigment pales on the other side of rose coloured glasses.” 💝💝
Thanks so much, Sanaa. 🙂
There are so many layers of meaning to this for me….just an amazing write.
grief is like a monster
you wear on your face
and they run like you’re godzilla” point to how difficult it is to communicate sometimes with a person who has lost a loved one, is dying, or is suffering from a calamitous disease….perhaps because it reminds us of our own mortality and the mortality of those we hold dear.
Usually we equate young people pulling petals off a daisy saying “s/he loves me, s/he loves me not” and you’ve turned that on its ear to this:
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
So much here that can relate to others reactions to our aging, an illness, where they keep trying to paint it positively when the real evidence is right before their eyes.
Just a wonderful write to the prompt!
Aww, thanks for your kind words, Lil. 🙂
You packed a lot of wisdom into these lines, Mish. Well written!
Thank you, Beverly! 🙂
It takes a very special, empathic nature to feel the grief of another. We are not trained well as humans for it. You capture the reality so well in your poem. Sometimes we can’t wait for someone to notice, we have to howl it from the hilltop and hope an empath hears…
Thanks for giving me a different perspective on that, Lisa. I appreciate it. 🙂
You’re most welcome, Mish.
These lines are powerfully hard hitting:
grief is like a monster
you wear on your face
and they run like you’re godzilla
I guess some people really don’t feel it but we can hope they somehow understand.
Thanks for hosting.
Thank you, Grace. 🙂
Oh that inability to stop painting the fading pink; and I love the rose-colored close. Great Stuff, Mish & THANX for the cool prompt.
Glad you enjoyed it, Ron. Thank you.
“Grief is like a monster you wear on your face,” is such a great line.
Thank you 🙂
Powerful write with intense images such as the “August sun rubbing salt in your wounds” contrast with the fragility of the flower being picked, petal by petal. I feel there is a certain idealism portrayed in the metaphor of the rose coloured glasses in the end. Such a thought-provoking read!
Thank you for your thoughtful comment.
Heavy duty and bang on, Mish. You made it both poetic with a cinematic vibe. A wonderful illustration for your own prompt. Some wonderful word-smithing here (Already noted). I really had fun with the prompt; thanks.
Aww, thank you, Glenn. 🙂
This poem is a “Wow.” I love so much about it.
I like the creativity of altering the “He loves me, he loves me not” into
“I feel for you, I feel not(thing)
“Grief is like a monster you wear on your face,”
Then,
“so you round up the usual suspects”
clueless, gutless,
they don’t care less
I am touched and inspired by your poem.
Thank you.
Thank you, Ali. I’m glad if had that effect. 🙂
now dying in front of them
petal by petal and in ways
they can’t fathom
Love the way you picture the response as a negative attraction. People often are pulled in even if they detest something in it. Good thinking Mish and thanks for playing host!
Hank
My pleasure, Hank. Thank you for reading. 🙂
A sad isolation indeed! Being view through rose colored glasses is most difficult. Dying one petal at a time is a great metaphor for aging.
Yes, it could be. Thanks Dwight.
oooh. the sadness rolls beautifully here. The August sun is so good, Mish.
Thank you.
I like that image of the August sun rubbing salt in wounds. I can feel it.
Yes, not a good feeling. Thanks for reading, Jane. 🙂
🙂
You nailed this one, MIsh! There’s so much to like about this piece. The tension, the clarity! The last line really does it for me. Brava!
Thank you so much!
This was so moving to me. Your description of how others respond to someone’s grief accurate and your telling of it so masterful. ❤️ I agree with Bjorn’s comment. You can almost hear someone saying “our thoughts and prayers are with you”. I never believed that anyway
I’m very happy that came across…thank you for your kind comment, Christine. 🙂
My pleasure ☺️
A rare person who can keep grief/pain from showing on their face …. a wonderfully clever challenge.
Thank you, Helen. 🙂
The inversion of the trope of the rose-colored glasses is so creative and unsettling–that they are not a way for the wearer to see the world as more positive than it is, but for the other to comfort themselves that the wearer is actually fine.
“Grief is like a monster you wear on your face” – love that line, Mish. Really enjoyed this prompt!