Lonely black places engulfing the mind,
Caverns of glistening fear.
Phantoms arising from pleasanter past
Tauntingly whisper your name in my ear.
Fearsome of seeing their faces in dreams
Willingly I lie awake.
Facing the clock-ticking wall, I keep too
Clocking the minutes, for sanity's sake.
Ducking below tearful blankets once more,
With broken resolve yet again,
Sobs fill the silence - life will, it appears,
Be undeniably never the same.
Words still walk their procession inside my head,
Spelling out clearly 'He's gone',
But half-empty cupboards untidily left
Begin to insist I clean up - - and move on.
Fay Slimm
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/facing-it-4/
