7 In poetry

not something, but nothing

polaroid photograph of a bakelite telephone - CC-BY-NC-ND leonie wise

I’m calling you because
I could really use a friend.
(Yet I don’t call, and
we don’t speak.)
Was my invitation lost in the mail?
Is this an intentional bruising
with silence?

This – not the first time –
caught in a tangle of loss and longing;
trapped in the hollows where
shadows surround me.
I crumble under the weight of
cancellations, and
one sad history that
was meant for two parts.
I know more people, yet
have less people to call
when I’m dangerously empty.

This opening heart wants
a change of season and
the saddest thing
I can say right now is
not something,
but nothing.

  • liz
    14/05/2013 at 05:47

    gosh i hear this.
    yes.

  • Robin aka Gotham Girl
    29/04/2013 at 16:08

    Michelle said it all…tender, raw and so beautiful.

  • michelle gd
    23/04/2013 at 19:10

    so much here that is tender and raw. and beautiful.

  • no worries
    23/04/2013 at 15:01

    beautiful words!

  • xanthe
    21/04/2013 at 08:57

    beautiful x.

  • kristen
    20/04/2013 at 16:00

    words that speak volumes to own tender heart…xo

  • Sherri B.
    20/04/2013 at 14:59

    Beautifully sad…I have felt this, and you expressed it perfectly.