Loss
Like a punch, hard, cold
Sickening to the very core
Until a lump forms in throat and heart
And breathing is painful to your soul
Like a scream, rising
From a hidden, hellish place
Your mind so lost it’s unrecognisable
Your heart fractures like crumbling earth
Like a song, slow, calm
That makes you cry bitterness
And wrap your arms around your waist
In a desperate, grasping plea for comfort –
Comfort that you will cease to feel
Lucy Webster 