Home

I sit in darkness
and allow my mind to wander
as I stare into nothingness
My eyes sting like a sore
throat when trying to swallow
A tear slides down my cheek
like a rain drop on a window
but I don't move or blink
My body is a rock
unmoved and lifeless
and my apartment is a time machine
preserving the world around me

A volcanic eruption disrupts
my haze and everything around me
as a train passes by screaming
like a banshee
I stand up trying to see through
the fog that has infected my head
and turn the light on
allowing time to move again

I grab a sweaty beer bottle
from my vacant fridge
and lean on the kitchen island
staring at the world we built together
Picture frames documenting our history
on the tan walls
The uncomfortable black leather couch
made comfortable by your touch
where we’d sleep more then our bed
The disgusting Unicorn lamp
from her childhood that made
the move easier for her

My grip tightens on the bottle
and it shatters like the lamp
of her childhood
broken on the floor
along with the front door

My blood drips like a leaky faucet onto the floor
and I begin to clean the mess
as I see the blood stains that led
to the room of our unborn child
where she laid as lifeless
as this home without her

I sit on the floor my head in my hands
allowing the tears to wash away the blood
and block out the world that could've been