Ghosts Passing in the Night

You will never understand 

How the empty space on your side of the bed haunts me each night 

 

Even now

I await the creak of metal as you turn over softly in your sleep

When your arm would be dragged from the cold side by the wall and drift across my back 

Brushing my hair out of the way and circling patterns with your fingertips 

 

Even now 

I kid myself believing I’m hearing the gentle hum as you sigh in the early hours 

In the deep silence, I listen out

But there is not a sound, all that is left is the singular rhythm of a barely beating heart 

I have not been alive since you 

 

You are not here 

You are just a hallucination

A replication

That requires a simple reiteration 

You are not here

 

I am grieving for us

I grieve and mourn each night as I lay awake

There is no solace in my slumber 

Give me peace, let me rest 

 

So that when I awake 

All sides of this bed are lit by the morning sun 

Warmed by your graceful presence 

I will finally breathe again 

 

 

The lonely hours are calling, do not allow me to answer the phone

 

◄ The Marks

The Greenhouse ►

Comments

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Cait Abbott

Mon 23rd Dec 2019 17:04

Thank you Po! Those lines took me quite a few hours of thinking but I think they’re my favourite. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to yourself. Thank you for your constant words of encouragement ☺️

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poemagraphic

Mon 23rd Dec 2019 15:11

Cait your line...

"You are not here

You are just a hallucination

A replication

That requires a simple reiteration

You are not here..."

Super line!!!!

Written with feeling

Wishing you a great Christmas & Happy New Year, full of promise and hope.

Po

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