When You Are Not Here with me

When You Are Not Here with me

The walls are closing in again

too much space and none to breathe

cups unwashed, lights left burning

your coat still hanging on the back of the chair

I spoke aloud this morning

to no one

asked how you slept,

then waited for the silence to reply

I cannot read the news today

the faces blur, the words don’t land

even the kettle sounds too loud

and the clock keeps dragging its heels

My skin forgets what warmth feels like

my spine forgets your arm

each thought is sharp and too complete

and always, always ends with your name

You are not gone

I know that

you are just

not here

And still the grief

is bigger than absence

it is noise,

noise that won’t let me think

Every memory

wears your face

and every moment

demands you back

If this is what they call love

then love is a weight

I carry like breath,

like blood

So come home

or say something

because I cannot keep

shouting into this room alone

I hate it when you are not here with me