grief/hope

If my grief was a river, it would spill into the ocean; ignoring the laws of nature

It would paint different shades of blue and it would hum all through the night 

If my grief was a dream, it'd be the longest dream ever, and it'd be of your face and the way you can't love me. I'd wake up and the memory would slowly swallow my day

If my grief was a place, it'd be all the places I've been, somehow your name stains amongst the tattoos of strangers.

Somehow your name spills out of the mouths of conversations I hear while passing by

If grief was my companion, we would last until death do us part

and if grief presented itself, it'd say "hello, my name is love"

but,

If grief is just a byproduct, there can only be a renowned hope

because where there is grief, there is love, and where there is love, there is hope

hope like a shooting star and the grumble of thunder; etching for something bigger than imagined

hope so potent like the jerking of a clash

hope like a new day, a new pair of shoes, a new tattoo

hope like the promising after life and the glow of a waxing moon

hope like a newborn, a new friend, a new favorite song

hope where I love again and they love me too

because where there lies grief, there lies love, but lastly, hope.