You never left

It's the little things that tell
the difference
but many times there's no observer
to notice them

Little things like
ignoring all the beer in the fridge
and going straight for the cupboard
where the tea bags
stood untouched for years


A fine combination

He took out one little bag
and filled the kettle with water
and placed it on the electric stove

and looked out the window
while waiting for the steam to whistle

Rainy weather outside
Overcast weather inside, in his heart

Also he had no smokes left
and no one to smoke them with
so he took the lighter from inside his
pocket and lit it
against the glass of the window
and said to the flame, "You said
you'd leave. But you
never left. It was a lie. Else why do
I feel you closer now than when your
body stood right next to mine? Doesn't
make sense. You never left…"

The glass started to blacken around
the flame and he retreated it

"You never left," he said. "You are so close
now and had taken over so much
of my mind that I started doing
the things
you loved and I hated."

The kettle whistled
behind him

He turned around.
"You never left…"
Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

41 thoughts on “You never left

Add yours

  1. “such strength, determination, and willpower-“ignoring all the beer in the fridge
    and going straight for the cupboard
    where the tea bags
    stood untouched for years” seems life a shifting in the atmosphere of his hopeful heart

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I remember when I read this, I was sitting in front of a baseboard heater with my laptop when it was still night out, camomile tea at my side, a window at my back, it was raining outside (i.e. all kind of uncanny; if I remember right; you had published it within the hour that I’d read it), feeling sad and anxious, and afraid of the world at large… and this poem was like a flame in the dark. One of my faves of yours… such a beautifully crafted story. Some folks rub off on us all the more, after they are gone.

    Liked by 3 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: