A Place to Say It

Say it raw. Say it loud. Say what you couldn’t say then.

I still set the table for you sometimes. I pretend it’s just habit, but really I hope if I leave your place, you’ll come back and fill it.

— Shared with love

This wall isn’t neat or tidy, it’s honest. These are grief-soaked love notes, angry goodbyes, silent screams, aching whimpers. Letters never sent. Words that needed somewhere to land.

Spray-painted here by the hearts who’ve been through it.

There’s no grammar check. No advice. Just expression; real, raw, and human.

You don’t need to fix grief.
You just need a place to put it..

I still talk to you. Out loud. In the car. In the kitchen. I pretend I’m just thinking, but I’m not. I’m trying to find you in the silence.

Some days I hear you.
Other days, I just hope you’re hearing me.

– From someone who isn’t ready to let go

You weren’t perfect, but you were mine. And I miss even the hard parts.

— Someone grieving quietly

I didn’t cry at your funeral. I thought that meant something was wrong with me. But the tears come now, at the strangest times — in the supermarket, while folding socks, when I hear that one damn song.

Grief doesn’t keep to schedules.
It shows up when it’s ready.
And sometimes, it wears pyjamas.

— Shared in a quiet moment