Hold on to the Grief

When we were kids, we tossed grief around

like hot potatoes, afraid to hold something that hurt.

We thought that if we passed pain on fast enough,

we would forget how it felt.

All the burns and bruises,

the way their gaze looked through you, not at you,

the goodbyes that were too short to hold onto,

the empty dinner table and quiet clinking.

But we soon learn that the grief we toss,

comes back to us, still white hot and angry.

So we decide to hurt,

to hold onto grief to make room for something else.