They claim that a moment
Took you away from me.
I had seen it in your eyes long
Before everything became black
And white. Your face was one of
Concluded facts. And I became fragmented.
Pieces of me followed you and I couldn’t make a sound.
I thought that if I froze
My own actions you would do
The same. You would still be
Holding my hand.
It was never meant to be that way.
I never became what you needed me to be.
I never got to know myself.
We both got lost in all the shades.
You’re a frame without a painting.
And I’m staring into a void
Of my own creation and
Never stop waiting,
Despite the loss of hope.
“Portrait of a woman in a black lace dress and fur” by William Joseph McCloskey (1859-1941)
Croque-Melpomene 