Monday, February 8, 2010


Emptiness is filling me to the point of agony
Originally uploaded by

Silent is the night.

I sit, I wait, I listen.

Emptiness fills the room. The silence is not my friend.

Where are you? Yes, this question again.

Space. There is too much of it tonight.

I long for your touch. I long for your scent.

Do you hear me? Do you see me?

I have kept a place for you.

It is next to me in bed. It is next to me at the table.

My hand reaches out for you. I trace the memory of you.

You are lying here with me. Your hand is locked into mine. My arm fits perfectly around you.

I feel your breath. I sense your smile.

Your eyes open, you catch me staring. Another smile.

My heart is broken. I can't move on.

Stuck. Stagnant. No where to turn.

Swallow me up. Take me away. I care not.

My soul is wounded. The expanse of emptiness grows further every day.

What is my cure? What is my poison?

Are they the same?


  1. Powerful. Thank you for sharing, Dan.

  2. As wNs has comment, so beautifully expressed.
    Oddly, I'm experiencing some of these feelings this morning. I have a friend visiting at the moment, so I thought I would not feel so alone for awhile - but it seems I am feeling the emptiness even more than usual.

  3. These words are absolutely stunning - they took my breath away. Soulful, real, honest - you tell it straight up and like it is. I see this almost as a love poem to Michael. Did the two of you exchange cards, emails, letters often?

    These words are making me reflect on the need for all of us to be more verbal (be it in writing or spoken words) in describing our sentiments for the ones we love.

  4. Thanks for the positive comments. It was a night of pain, and I just needed to express my feelings in order to sort them out. There are times that my emotions take hold of me, and I find it is best to just allow myself to be taken.

    I'm feeling much better today.

    Michael and I did exchange cards often, and always took the time to express our feelings for each other in carefully chosen words. Part of our night time ritual was a check-in about how we were feeling that day. I cherish the memory of those talks, especially because in the end he was unable to communicate verbally. I continued to tell him how much I loved him, and listened to him by the look in his eyes.