grief was not in their tears,

grief was carved into the gravestone,

carried underneath the soil by the dry wind,

it laced in my sweet hums,

rode the night lullaby and

turned itself into a morning star.

it woke with me,

looked at me,

its debrises blackened my vision.

i never shed a tear,

because my tears were ashes

and my agonized scream was a knife.

i gasped for light.