The Unsuspecting Absence
empty house, empty home.
where did everyone go?
feels like someone shut off the lights.
the motive, the drive,
like water, I felt it slip through my finger tips.
taste of boring melancholy,
what was once there-
can someone turn the lights back on?
ghosts float by to remind me a sliver
of the shade of light that it once use to look like.
Listen! do you hear that?
. . . nothing.
sensory saturation diminished.
black and white seem to gray in the darkness.
her eyes, those windows look so cold.
someone left the door wide open,
did the living thing, once thriving inside, die?
not alone, but abandoned.
exsistence blurred into extinction.