Constant Companion Poem by grace mariner

So when does grief run its course?
When does it throw up its gnarled hands and say
I've had enough?
It continues to taunt me at my weakest moments
throughout the day.
It is relentless in its efforts to inflict pain,
Does it ever grow weary, or want to sleep?
I fear it restores itself during those moments that
I am distracted away from its torment...
though these moments are few and far between.
It is my silent partner as I travel on without you.
Insidious, it waits for that perfect moment to strike,
never providing a warning or aura that it is coiled
with fangs bared.
It is the discontent you learn to desensitize to,
like a splinter deep under a fingernail.
The pain waxes and wanes, but the loss remains
constant.
And it still clings to me because I can't say good bye
a second time.
It is all that is left of you.