Annabelle Chapman

& if not in this life, will you come to me in my dreams?

the calm in the quietness of her gentle affection- her divine touch, salvation

all hopes & small wishes end as they began- that she may hear my heart that calls for her- that begs, pleads, & petitions for her, & return to me once more

what use is the whole of anything, when a half shared with her is more than i could ever need

the rasping of her starved heart reverberates in her quiet words & small breaths

relinquishing to this wretched state- an existence maddened by memories, by dreams- days with you that so vividly i still see, that my hands still helplessly, compulsively extend to reach

i pray- i plead- i beg- at what point does grief cease? when can i take a step and not be met with an end?

she has long turned & walked away- but how- when i still feel her here? not one day, nor one moment has she been gone from me 

in rooms of memories, i linger, whispering end tails of conversations once had

the knife he left twists & turns itself, snapping the sutures within my heart- he loves another- he loves another.

how do i wake to find myself here- still? trapped & bound to this eternal living nightmare, born from the death of a dream

how am i spared nothing in your absence? even in sleep, still, i am so catastrophically & painfully aware of all that is no longer here- a love that is no longer mine

each day, he spares less & less, until i am senselessly all consumed foraging for crumbs in the earth’s dirt

all i am is anchored in pain- drowning in my heart’s refusal, to simply let her go

folding in on myself, each night, my mind more lost- cast into the sea of memories of her

i called & called your name- clutching at only the trails of the ghost you left in your wake

hope creeps into my heart, & with it, i know,  i am dreaming again