How do you describe it?
I asked this of myself,
regarding a feeling I have no words for
The closest I can think of is absence
nothing sticks
Not in my hands, through my eyes,
or on my mind
everything falls free
A sieve
that lets everything slip out
but sadness
Sometimes
your head and your heart are full
with memories and faces, words and hopes and dreams
but when you sit down to write
or call a friend to talk
your mouth and your fingers
are empty
Classical music wafts in the background,
a low, tinkling sound that melds with the rattle of the radiators.
The dishes are piled up, needing to be washed,
the laundry hangs from miscellaneous light fixtures as it dries,
and the crumbs from dinner are spread across the couch.
But I will sit,
and try to enjoy this cup of coffee.
Perhaps I will figure out
how to tread water in this melancholy
because otherwise
I will drown in it.
