residue

 

Why are you still here?

Shouldn’t you have been

gone

by now?

 

months of moments

faded photos from sunlight’s spill.

 

this door with more fingers

printed smudge stain.

 

etched, paint mark my words

imprinted on the table.

 

I turned off the heat weeks ago.

Borrowed an air conditioner.

Still I stifle.

 

why don’t you go as

you

already have.

 

this ghosting,

lingers.

it’s pallid remnant

like a life defining

failure.

 

 

my son sets

his hand on mine,

warns off refection.

yet moments (hours sometimes)later

the twinge heard distant bells

bubble up

to be

skin raised and swallowed.

it’s noxious,

combustible, toxin

shaken off with release.

 

these days are as before

there was

a time

I loved you.

So, why are you still here?

 

 

 

Reviews

[Heather Angelika Dooley]

"why don�t you go as
you
already have.

this ghosting,
lingers.
it�s pallid remnant
like a life defining
failure."

Absolutely. And absolutely brilliant.

My latest poem (posted) is about this very thing.

[Heather Angelika Dooley]

"my son sets"

I love it.

This is a great poem. I don't really have much else to say except that I understand.