They’ll sell you closure in six payments or less.
Write. Laugh. Hope.
Grief used to be a process.
Now it’s a profit margin.
Lose someone you love?
There’s a package for that.
Gold, silver, platinum loss.
We’ll bury them and your savings.
They monetize your mourning.
They trademark your heartbreak.
They’ve got candles for sorrow, crystals for closure,
and coaches for “conscious uncoupling from pain.”
And just when you think you’ve cried enough,
they’ll remind you there’s a limited-time sympathy sale
on “healing bundles.”
The funeral costs more than the birth.
The urn comes with upcharges.
Even your tears have been repurposed
into hashtags, playlists, and downloadable PDFs.
Because in this world?
Grief isn’t sacred—it’s scalable.
They don’t just capitalize on loss.
They brand it.
Box it.
Bill it monthly.
And if you choose to grieve quietly?
Without their subscriptions,
their candles,
their curated stages of sadness?
You’re doing it wrong.
Write. Laugh. Hope.
Because your pain isn’t a product.
And your love doesn’t need packaging to be real.
