Void Called Forever
He called to tell me,
voice thick with confusion.
The line tangled my words.
Faulty verbs formed questions,
each ending with a noise deep inside;
the growl of uncertainty.
I cut (onions) to hide my fear,
tears mingling with the sting
of loss and vegetables.
Hours passed in seconds,
days rush back at once.
And then I was there beside you,
your hand cold as I grasped it.
You didn't squeeze back. But
I pictured you strong and warm,
smiling.
I couldn't speak,
tongue caught in the absence.
I stood outside the doors,
shivering, watching the boys cry,
willing my heart to stop.
called your cell phone all night,
half expecting you to answer,
finding only a message to greet me,
finding it impossible to fathom
this void called forever.
Criticism greatly appreciated.
Should I read this at the coffeehouse?
voice thick with confusion.
The line tangled my words.
Faulty verbs formed questions,
each ending with a noise deep inside;
the growl of uncertainty.
I cut (onions) to hide my fear,
tears mingling with the sting
of loss and vegetables.
Hours passed in seconds,
days rush back at once.
And then I was there beside you,
your hand cold as I grasped it.
You didn't squeeze back. But
I pictured you strong and warm,
smiling.
I couldn't speak,
tongue caught in the absence.
I stood outside the doors,
shivering, watching the boys cry,
willing my heart to stop.
called your cell phone all night,
half expecting you to answer,
finding only a message to greet me,
finding it impossible to fathom
this void called forever.
Criticism greatly appreciated.
Should I read this at the coffeehouse?