Grief is like a serpent that strikes with fangs dripping of poison. Stunning it's victim into shock, killing slowly, painfully, careless of life and seething with apathy. It strikes again and again, without warning. It sneaks up upon its unassuming prey and attacks with ferocity. Leaving them swollen and scarred.
With time, the broken one learns to expect it, though can still be caught unawares, if a happy moment should arrive once in a while. The serpent's green heart will not tolerate this betrayal and instantly reasserts its dominance.
Eventually the victim no longer fears the poison or the fang. It cannot hurt as much as the first time. And an addiction begins to form. Immunization through pain.
Looking more reptilian and less human, every step slithers just a bit, tasting the air for a gulp of relief.
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