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Grief is a beast that comes in the night


Gnashing it's teeth to rip at my heart, it gains on me as the sun sets every evening. I know it is coming. I feels it's hot breath upon my neck and feel the fear tightening my chest. Though I bolt the door, or even try to run or hide, it finds me, and wounds me beyond recognition. A bloodthirsty monster that is relentless in it's hunt. It knows where to find me. It knows how to hurt me. It knows I am defenseless. Each night I run, trying to keep the beast at bay. Breathless in my attempted escape. Clinging to my husband out of fear. But the battle rages internal and I am never the victor.

 
 
 

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Grief Journal Prompt #6

What special place would you want to take your child to if you could be with them today?

 
 
 
I am...

I am beautifully broken, stronger than I thought, shake-able but not annihilated, grief-ridden, golden, motherly, feminine, sad. I am...

 
 
 

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