*For day five, I’d like you to try a different kind of prompt – one that focuses on the craft of writing.

If you were writing fiction, you’d want to know the voice of your main character. You’d want to know the way they walk, the kinds of food they eat, how they comb or don’t comb their hair. They would need to be real.

In a way, your grief is a character. It has a rhythm and a voice. It is particular to you. If we’re going to be working with grief, let’s find out who s/he is.

Today’s prompt:

If your grief is a character who can come forward and speak, what kind of voice does s/he have? Don’t tell us about it, let him or her actually speak. Write in grief’s voice.*


A Dialogue with Grief

“Who are you?”

I am you.
I am the image of you.
I mirror you and every movement that you have.
You are physical,
I am not.
I am made up of all the breaths you have lost since this great heartbreak.
I am made up of all the moments you have lost with your creators, your parents.
I am invisible and overwhelming.
I am only seen by you.
I am only felt by you.
I come with you wherever you go.
I wait with you.
I sit with you.
I am you.
I am the hollow, hidden part of you that will soon be one with you.
Right now I am seperate from you.
Right now I am seperate from you because you have yet to seperate from the version of yourself before this great heartbreak.
When you look at me,
You see yourself.
When you feel punctured from pain,
I am here to show you that hole.
When you cry,
I am here weeping.
When you are angry,
I am here screaming on top of my lungs.
When you are still,
I am here floating along side you.
When you wake up in the morning,
I am coming into focus reminding you of this great heartbreak.

In pain this big, there is no one else to walk with you other than yourself.
I have come to walk with you.
I have come to walk through you.
I have come in place of those you have lost.
I am you.
I am here.