An exploding bladder

I’m moving slowly
past the anguished part of grief
into the more routine

the daily waking and sighing
the hiccups in midday
the restless arms at night

it’s sort of like carrying
an incredibly full, near exploding bladder the entire day

painful if I lean the wrong way,
if I shift my weight without thinking about it
(like I could even momentarily forget)

walk gently
run angrily
stand still

it does not matter

there is the pressure, and the awareness of the pressure,
mindlessly blowing air into my veins

always always
knocking on my bones

the unbearable thing about grief
is that is can never fully be emptied.

1 thought on “An exploding bladder

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