Grief is exhausting. It takes the breath from the chest, makes the skin dissect itself. Laying for days on sad pillows. I am a weeping willow. Grief took AOld of me with the devil's kiss. I didn't expect it the way its fist packed such power. I could spend hours in a flat space of nothingness. What is this feeling? What am I not dealing with? Is this healing? My body is inflamed by how I have internalized the way someone else died