Fillyjonk wrote this, and she doesn’t think much of it.
Grief is like a garment of variable size.
At times, it is a heavy wool cloak, enveloping, engulfing, it weighs you down.
At others, it is that t-shirt with the annoying tag you cannot rip out and that only gets worse if you cut it
It is never light and comfortable
It is usually too hot and saps your energy
It is a flattering color on no one.
It cannot be removed, cannot be dropped by the side of the road.
Laundering does not help it, nor does washing it in tears.
It will not rip; you cannot remove it; it is as if it is the enchanted
Shoes from that fairy tale; it has molded to your body.