Wednesday, March 24, 2010

With You Gone

                                                                oisin and niamh


                                            

With you gone
the cavity in me
throbs an emptiness
that swallows my heart
and I stumble over the
edges of trivial duties.
the tendrils
and gravity of my routine
weaken then snap.
and I begin to notice
the gaps, and blanks
between moments
that drew me in .





IT starts with the long
silences between words,
like trolls lurking under
the bridge
threatening to devour me
bones and all
I hesitate to begine,
trembling with despair
with out your voice
to surround, and hold me
in the motion of my day
and deliver me unscathed


there is an absence in the
my world,
that leaves a vacuum
around me, a loosening of gravity,
setting me adrift,
between my mornings and
nights.
until


between cereal and coffee
im tugged unwilling into
the vastness between planets.
lost to the pull and gasp
of gravity,
beyond the redemption of
earth,
with out your arms
and mouth to tether me
to your orbit
and I drift in the chill,
silent darkness.
till the mundane reels me
in and
I finish my cooling coffee,
and start my day,
until


the realization of your
absents severs the
tenuous fleshy threads,
that bind me to my
life,
and I fall from cleaning
dishes,
into the cloying film of
black water,
removed from the bustle
and buzz, of driving and
trafic, from
commuting and arriving,
treading water, distant,
and removed, bobbing
in the thick ooze, that
grasps and pulls, threaditeing
to hold me under,
and I beyond the reach
of rescue, watching the buzz and scamper
of daily life on the distant shore,
with out your eyes and hands
to moor me to the safety
of your harbor.
then arrival reaches in,
and im at my desk,
leafing throw work.
until


the blanks in my life,
snare me,
and I flout untethered ,
unraveled
in the void that your
absence has bloomed in
my everyday and
I become lost between living room
and bedroom,
lost between sheets and
sleep.
with you gone, I suffer the
vertigo, of a thousand years
of isolation
in the world, I stumble
and sway,
and fill with nausea over
the heaving desert, of mundane
callings and promises


with you gone
I become lost,
in the gap of
my days,
and long for
your return
to bind together my
fragmented and tattered
remnants
and hold me secure in
your moment and
purpose.

4 comments:

Woman in a Window said...

organic.
you are organic.
and i
guilty too often
of unravelling.

xo
erin

Avachild said...

It hurts... an unending ache that keeps reminding you that it is there.

I want so desperately to hug you, one of those tight hugs that doesn't let the recipient breath.

Ava

Gray said...

You have captured that longing feeling so perfectly, almost to perfect. *sighs*

Cat said...

you do this very well, I cannot wait to read more!