The Paradox of Loss – Poetry

i’m scared to step on a scale these days

because i know the number will be double what it once was.

my lungs are full with sobs

and my eyes are full of tears

and my heart is full of memories.

surely i must weigh more?


i haven’t eaten in three days

because there is a rock dragging the pit of my stomach

towards the tiled floor

and my heart sits near my kidney

too heavy to lift.

how many pounds does a heavy heart weigh?


i read somewhere that when you undergo huge trauma

your heart strings can snap

which apparently is quite serious;

you can die of a broken heart.

i think i already knew that though.

will your scale break under my weight one day?


and even though you’re gone 

you’re still standing right beside me on the scale.

even though you’re gone

you’re still weighing me down.

and i guess that’s the paradox

of loss. 


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