Sitting Still: A Poem

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It’s dark now, I feel like it has been like that

The whole day. Something I couldn’t get out of.

You, not being where you should be. You, not

Moving. You, not eating. You, unreachable, by

Plane, by car, on foot, I have to think about you,

So hard, so long, I won’t get you back, the way you

Should still be, alive, I sit here and my face feels heavy,

You should still be wearing your clothes and I

Shouldn’t bury my face in them, in their scent, looking

For you, aching, head to toe, every single bone in my body

Longs for you and your presence, I miss you, I miss you,

I miss you so much. Your death hurts too much.

photo of tree near sunflowers
Photo by Avery Nielsen-Webb on Pexels.com

Published by Croque-Melpomene

Author of "Within Paravent Walls". Pentalingual Idealist. Hypercreative homebody. Self-exorcising Poetess. Creator of "Croque-Melpomene" & "Les Femmes de la Décadence". I hold a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Dissertation: The Decadent in Love with his Psychopomp: Thomas Mann's 'Death in Venice' and Adrian Lyne's 'Lolita') and a Master of Letters by Research in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Thesis: Romanticising Decadence and Aestheticising Death: Women as Projection Bodies and Mimetic Identities in Zola’s 'Thérèse Raquin', Schnitzler’s 'Dream Story', Süskind’s 'Perfume: The Story of a Murderer' and Eugenides’ 'The Virgin Suicides').

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