grief ain't sweet
it's salty
the dead don’t cry
and they got nothin left to live for.
once they’re gone
they’re gone –
you ain’t gonna see ‘em no more.
your tears’ll water the flowers you left ‘em
that they’ll never see –
salty.
the dead don’t cry,
and grief ain’t sweet.
it’s salty.
“you are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored?”
we use salt every day. it’s simple — unremarkable if i’m being honest, but for some reason that’s the thing Jesus chose to relate us to.
salt stings. it preserves things. it dries them out.
it’s what tears taste like.
salt somehow makes simple ingredients distinct — better than before.
sometimes it even tastes sweet.
when you read about grief there’s a lot of emphasis on community. people bring food, their condolences — all the sorries they have left in their hearts like it’s pocket lint. left over change.
i always thought it was sweet, but it's not.
it’s salty.
i wrote this a couple of different ways, circling around this idea. i don't know if it says what i thought it’d end up saying, but maybe that’s the entire point of it.
— crim
i wish i had something wittier and more convincing to say
but every time i write about
why you should buy me a coffee
i end up cringing for eons.
if something i wrote resonated with you or you’re feeling generous,
here’s my “buy me a coffee” link.
MORE FROM ME
shameless promo since it’s my own post —
if you liked this poem, consider checking these out:
I just love this. Simple and profound at the same time. Yes, grief is salty.
Someone said to me that salt is never on the menu but you notice when its gone 👀 once again, crim, well done and incredible work