hüzün

hollow empty quiet –
this house in the rain

where you will never know
that, yes, I'll be driving
the damn mercedes
any day now

where you talk to me no more
when I report
the 2nd orange slice
of cancer
they’ve cut
out of me.

[no, it won’t get me]

hollow empty impassive –
these pointless underwater days

where you hear me no more
as I fight back sadness
like an urge to retch
until only a numb, deep pain
in my gut remains.

I miss you
in these silent days.

the key is gone