Not Cold, Just Shaking

It wasn’t the grief that killed me

It was the lack of usual symptoms

Which brought forth the question

‘Was I not grieving at all?’

And that meant facing facts.

Something I’d avoided for far too long.

 

Flashback:

Shouted -

‘Don’t you love me at all?’

And me -

Pretending not to hear.

 

I’m not heartless

Just silent

Not cold

Just shaking

I’m not broken

Just bitter

Not sick

Just twisted.

 

Flashback:

Spoken -

‘I’m leaving. Does that bother you at all?’

And me -

Staring into the depths

Of the kitchen sink

‘Has it ever?’

Not looking at the hurt on your face

 

It wasn’t the grief that killed me

It was the fact that you had won

 

Flashback:

Whispered -

‘I love you. But you see I’ll get over that.

You on the other hand, will never have

Anyone love you again.’

And then

Triumphant -

‘I pity you’

And me

Turning too late

Seeing only your right ankle

Disappearing out the door.

And I knew you were right.

 

You’d won

Even though I’d always assumed it was me.

Reviews

[Drew Wade]

This is a wonderful poem. I really like it because of all the emotions it displays, and all the scenes it goes through.. Have you ever thought of taking this concept and putting it into a short story?