Hurricane’s Eye Unni Wilhelmsen

Within grief
There's a quiet spot
A small freezing womb of silence
Like a hurricane's eye
And I'm resting
Or whatever I do in there
In the center
Sitting on a shelf somewhere
Looking up looking down
Looking into myself for words
Shredding my heart in the search

And there are no colors in here
No small sounds or noises
In the hurricane's eye
There may be
But they can't find my ears
And if you notice
The tangles in my hair
They're the only proof
Or token you'll find
Of my worries and fears

My trees, they're dying on me
A zombie, that's what I'll be!
Grief can be a product of
Someone's insensitivity
Telling everyone how ok I am
I swear it's killing me
Inconsolable is what I am
Life running through my fingers like sand