**Contains themes of grief and death.
•••
A house frozen in time. Painfully familiar sights, yet disturbed by some ceaseless empty vibe.
Many days have melted by, yet the calendars are stuck on July. I can't look around without crying, go upstairs without choking.
Head spinning, spine chilling. Every little happy fluttering feeling in that house seemed to drift away on a breeze.
How can so many people seemingly get through this shit with ease, whilst I'm still frozen in time twiddling my thumbs and biting back tears, seconds seeming like years.
This place was crystal, but suddenly it becomes cracked and cold. Chest tight, ears clogged, I sit in silence. I have a mouth, I have a voice, I must scream. But nothing seems to come out.
Portraits with no eyes, songs with no melody, and yet she still sits at the table, making cookies, humming hymns, bringing that happy fluttering feeling back to my limbs.
I ask her how she feels and mourns, and she says "I wish he was here everyday. But that's just what some things are and nothing more. A wish."
YOU ARE READING
Poems From The Peephole
PoetryBasically a place to throw away miscellaneous stories and poetry that would otherwise sit in my notes app forever - I hope you get enjoyment out of these :)
