Crowded By Your Absence

Your absence fills the room.

It hums in the quiet, presses against my ribs

like a heartbeat that’s lost its rhythm.

Even silence has learned your name.

I try to keep busy, to fold myself into small distractions,

Music too loud, a book I won’t remember reading,

Hands that fidget with nothing to hold.

But everything I touch leads back to you,

A song, a scent, the way sunlight falls

Where you should be.

I miss you in ways

That don’t know how to speak.

It’s in the reaching, 

The almost, the stillness before sleep

Where my heart keeps searching for yours.

It’s in the air that sits heavier,

The laughter that dies too quickly,

The space beside me

That never stays warm.

The days stretch thin without you.

They spill quietly into one another,

Slow and heavy,

As if time itself resists the idea

Of moving forward without you in it.

Morning comes and goes,

And I still check the door

Like you might suddenly walk through it.

I count the days like petals pulled from a flower,

One less, one less,

Whispering your name between them,

A quiet ritual of hope.

I trace the calendar

With trembling patience,

Each mark a promise

That the waiting won’t last forever.

Sometimes I close my eyes

And imagine you here.

Your hand brushing mine,

Your voice low and close,

Saying my name like it’s something soft.

And for a moment,

The distance folds in on itself,

And the ache quiets

But then the air shifts,

And it’s just me again,

Half dreaming, half awake,

Held together by love and missing you.

Still, I hold on.

Because somewhere inside this longing

Is the certainty that soon,

The waiting will end,

And I’ll find you standing there again,

Real and warm,

And I’ll finally be home.

-dmnd