The Shape of Grief

by Athira Jacob

A friend tells me
Grief doesn’t always look like sadness

Grief can be the fuck-you to the world
When you stop going to church
when you have no use for heaven or hell

Grief can be the hours alone in the gym
past midnight, outrunning your pain

Or when you lose,
grief can be the scars on your arms
A little respite, flowing from inside you

Grief can be a part of you,
uniquely yours, like the shape of your nose
or the family you are born into
never to be rid of
You accept it, tolerate it
Maybe someday,
learn to love it, too.

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Athira Jacob grew up in India and now lives in Princeton, New Jersey. She divides her time between the worlds of science and poetry. A regular at local open mics, her work will be showcased in the forthcoming 2024 issue of Kelsey Review.