Over Time

Over timegrief cracks,like ice,like glass.
Over time,memories fade,like a paintingleft in the sun.
But we clingto the grief,to the memory,because the heartis treasonousand wantswhat it wants.
Over time,the traitor heartlooses its grip,memories fade,grief slips away,and we are leftwith only thevague impressionof loss.
Over time,things get better,even if the end of grieving,feels like betrayal,and tastes of ash.