The last 3 letters of the spring

My grief has a name
green eyes
always right
never feels anything 
except for all the feelings there are

My grief hates being tickled 
quick to judge your lack of confidence in the absence of a trial, 
unless you pled guilty in an act of faith, or stream of consciousness; then it’s your loss!
I had a dream where I was 
still walking down that aisle 
despite daring all its crimes
 made in the name of self-love, or God, or someone almighty, unless
I was missing myself
Vile, on the other hand, wasn’t I?

My grief has a name
used to hide in my arms
from all that darkness there is
My grief has a name and a track record of not being ready
plays it nice until all that’s left is violence
My grief has a name
except for all those days, it's silent