Five months ago, my life shattered.
I’ve made progress, but I’m not better.
Grief, not a “condition” that resolves.
Time, not a friend, but a foe that dissolves
Support and help from all but a few.
(To my very precious few, what would I do without you?)
The ditches in my path, I stumble into less,
I smile and laugh when expected,
But inside I’m a mess.
So, if you must know, I will say,
“Taking one breath at a time.”
Some days I am fine.
But don’t assume I’m better.