Sandcastles.
Dealing with Grief + Extract from new Prose.
hello hello. as i move forward in life and turn the corner to experiences unknown, my world-view has started to shift. more often than usual, i find myself at the disposal of the thrash, trying to find ways where it all makes sense and adds to a bigger picture.
this week, i want to talk about loss. this is bit of a harsh topic but, then again, this wouldn’t truly be Reign’s newsletter if it didn’t make you feel your feelings.
for the past month, i’ve been having fleeting feelings of longing for those who are no longer with me; passed or walked away alike. in this rut, yesterday i came to the realization that i hadn’t written a poem in over a month. that is not like me. when absorbed, it became clear that my emotions had been on freefall because i hadn’t taken the time to process them. if it isn’t clear, i process my emotions by writing about them. given that i’ve been writing full newsletters every week, it still isn’t enough “processing”. on the flip side, i had been writing here so much that my brain drained itself of words for poetry.
hence, i sat down four times yesterday to write. to no ones surprise, i couldn’t. my body had started to feel raw, as if the flesh on my bones had been stretched and ripped, leaving me aching at every touch. the fists to my gut, this time around, were of grief. every day i’d miss someone. every day my brain revolved between two names. two people of immense love. two people who were not with me anymore. one had died. the other was a killer. both gone abruptly. both i missed endlessly.
finally, at around 2 am, i was inspired. i wrote. though it wasn’t a traditional poem, i wrote a paragraph of prose mixed with spoken word. this was written in the form of a letter to one of the two people. here is an extract:
...in my head, im still worth your time. my darling how i wish i could be worth your time. my beloved how i would have carved and reshaped every fiber of my being had you only asked. ask. my love i would write not again if not for you if your love was for me again. my dearest i already do, in hopes for it to come true. in hopes you could be for me and my heart didn’t feel misery in that it belongs to you. if it only, it could be true. if only i didn’t know that i can never again know you. if only i didn’t have to lie and say “no” when someone asks me if i know you...
after writing this, i felt within me a sense of calm, that i had let out of me the emotions that engulfed me for a month. i knew i had resolved.
the song that i have fixated upon this entire week was strangely, “Black Beauty” by Lana Del Rey. a specific part of the melody and writing has been stuck in the back of my head, more closely the second of two lines in the pre-chorus right after the second verse as the “through you” bleeds into the “oh” of the chorus, going into “what can I do?/life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue/sun and ocean blue/their magnificence, it don't make sense to you” right into the post-chorus. everything about this from the instrumentals and her notes levitates me.
the lyrics of the song above are recognition of my grief over the past week. so is the extract. i wrote this edition of my newsletter to only truly not feel so solitary. i have learnt in my process that grief may be the only variable that connects every human to another. people like to say that it is love, but what is love without grief? in my head, they’re two sides of the same coin. so why feel alone when we’re all in this together?
the fact that you’ve experienced loss, the fact that it hurts, only means you’ve lived. would you give up all the happiness just to have not lost? i know i wouldn’t. so cheer up lovie, grief and pain are reminders of the fact that you’re still alive. and god am i glad you are.
until next time, ciao
x