The Death

It emaciated me, the lost resonating its empty space
I feel it everytime as I sit still, letting the silence come over me
in the shower, walking to and from work, during sleep… The silence
that kills the most, when you’re left alone with longing thoughts 
untagged and saved for those special moments when the nights are longer. 
I feel it everytime I try and satisfy that part of me with old and new faces, awkwardly
attempting to connect on any thread.  You have a relationship with things the most
I fill my empty space with cigarettes, spirits, pills, tears…  And it grows obtuse now
since there’s nothing enough to feed its insatiable vacancy.
So I put red roses, white lilies, and yellow daffodils upon the places invaded the most
I close my eyes in farewell, and beg for comfort.

3 thoughts on “The Death

  1. oooh. I struggle with obtuse, obstruse. Much is obtuse. Many are obstruse. I was letting my thing swallow my appetite but I get so hungry at work that I can’t think straight and then I might kill people.

    am having a party on saturday if’n you are in /near MD that day. xx

    Thanks for the words and the invite.


  2. hi there!:) the feeling and longing in this is beautifully portrayed. i love those last two lines. i think so many can relate to feeling this way. i think in the end it’s def a matter of what you fill in the hollow spaces. i can’t wait to check out the chapters of the story you have up. i’ll come back soon.


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