after the first death, there is no other

There are limits, even to grief. The heart can only encompass so much sadness. Or, to put it another way, it can only break into a finite number of pieces. Because I lost twins, is my pain double what it would have been had I lost only one child? Of course not.

And still, for me, the hardest part is to foresee a future where time will dilute anguish to something closer to a dull ache. How many times have I said, either out loud, or to myself "I will never be happy again?"

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.