Isabella Grace’s Reviews > Memorial: An Excavation of the Iliad > Status Update

"grief is black it is made of earth / It gets into the cracks in the eyes / It lodges its lump in the throat"

"Like when a mother is rushing / And a little girl clings to her clothes / Wants help wants arms / Won't let her walk / Like staring up at that tower of adulthood / Wanting to be light again / Wanting this whole problem of living to be lifted / And carried on a hip."