ghost melancholy
“can you grieve / a soul you don’t know? do I have the right?”

I sit in subdued mourning, grieving for a stranger
who isn’t a stranger. can you grieve
a soul you don’t know? do I have the right?
I search for a descriptor for this
ghost melancholy and find only this:
your smile, playing on grainy footage
in the depths of memory; your voice,
muted as if I’ve only heard it underwater;
your face, a memory I can’t trust.
I sit in hollow mourning, grieving for a stranger
who isn’t a stranger. is the absence of grief
a sin? do I have the right to tearless eyes?
there is no name for this emotionless sorrow.
it sits heavy on my heart like a pearl,
forged from guilt and wanting to forget.
I long to release it, have it plucked
from my body and turned into something beautiful.
can you take it from me,
as you go?
About the Creator
Katherine J. Zumpano
poet & writer in the pnw | bookworm
writing a little of everything
find me on instagram & threads: @kjzwrites
'from me, to you' out now.



Comments (2)
So known to you but not known, in that they are someone who has been in your life but you never really felt like you knew them. And now they are gone to leave you with your guilt. I love your last seven lines. That idea of the pearl hiding your guilt and being taken by them from you would be a gift indeed.
I tend to grieve for strangers on the regular. Great job! 👏