Grief is like that music you hear in the store,

always playing in the background.

And it’s the type of music you hate,

so no matter how hard you try,

you can’t ignore it, shut it out.

Some days, just because, I guess,

the volume is turned way up.

You feel the beat in your blood, your bones.

It’s jarring – to the point of being painful

and you wish you knew how to turn the volume down but

you don’t seem to have access to the controls.

In fact, you have no control over any of it.

That’s the harsh reality:

this horrible thing has happened because you have no control,

absolutely none.

The music plays on

and on.

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