Me, Leaving

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Are you leaving me?
It isn't a pretty thought, to say good-bye,
It's more like a knife cut to the hand,
sharp and razor hard, difficult to parry.

Stop it now! This leaving of yours,
isn't what I want at all.
How can I make you want to stay with me?

Do you think I will enjoy your absence
from me?
It will be an empty space
where once your presence resided
Only my imagination will fill up
that empty space
with fears and fantasies about
what you are doing
right now

maybe you are leaving the subway,
it's long melancholy tail winding away,
into it's dark, subterranean glide.

maybe you are leaving the kitchen,
it's stove waiting stoically in it's assigned place,
for your return,
for it's heating up,
for it's cooking of your nourishment.

Maybe you are leaving your house,
entering another,
becoming a different person there.
One I might not recognise,
ever?

Maybe you are leaving this life,
going somewhere else,
I don't know where.

Would you know me when
I come there too?

Why is it so difficult to
exit?

Writing by Regina Stemberger

Photo "...stage right" by s2art

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