I am alive. My broken Heart beats. I breathe

Rear view of Jacqueline Fairbrass sitting in a bed of daffodils looking at high stone wall

I cried this morning Not the soft, sweet tears of lovely memories gently healing my heart No. Ugly, gut-wrenching sobbing Angry tears Bitter loss Heart cracking wide open again Grief doesn’t follow a straight path Grief ebbs and flows, bobs and weaves ‘Floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee’ I’ve hit a rough patch…

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