Since You Left

This is the first night I’m spending alone

since you left.

You know how houses don’t make sounds

when they’re full?

But now,

they moan.

They creak.

They shift.

Like they’re searching for something

they lost.

Tonight,

I really thought the house would rip itself

from the foundation,

leave the door swinging behind it,

and just go.

So I stayed.

To make sure it didn’t

take me too.

I can’t sleep.

I just lie here,

in the hum of flickering things.

My breath is loud.

The silence, louder.

My thoughts, loudest.

Sadness presses against the windows of my chest.

Wrong thoughts pacing the hallway of my mind.

I stare at the ceiling,

searching for cracks,

in the paint,

in myself.

I trace the old lines,

like veins

of something broken that still holds.

The house is tired.

So am I.

And I wonder,

if I’m just like it,

fragile

and aching,

quietly shifting beneath

the weight of being left.

Sip & Support