Missed Connections in Pittsburgh
Into The Universe
an emptiness in the core of my being
churning
burning
aching
pulsating
I cannot find relief
except in passing smiles
an occasional laugh
that intermittent normalcy
a brief moment
where her scent lingers
on a pillow
a blanket
a chair
and I hold on so tight
for an instant
I am moved
out of this chaos
back to the familiar hum
of a life somewhat settled
of a love somewhat stunted
stale
yet there
solid
enduring
vital
but withered by neglect
and years passed idly
illusive
it crumbles beneath me
just as quickly
and all the air leaves my lungs
lunging forward
an abrupt awakening
it leaves me
she leaves me
I am left
out
down
alone
behind
cascading
through the synapses of my mind
memories rush
corrosive
burning their way
into my consciousness
death is deceptive
he starts so slowly
just when you think
you’re finally really living
Her Two Cents
What is it about the dark days of winter that brings up the worst feelings and memories? Missed Connections always attracts a certain amount of “lovelorn poets,” but the past few weeks I’ve seen a noticeable increase in sad, heartbroken stories. Holiday-post-holiday-artic-cold-miserablesness seems to be exacerbating the natural tendency of this time of year for getting stuck in the murky depths of our hearts and souls. Let it all out now, and we’ll soon be in a better place to embrace the new spring (not too, too far away… January, February, March, and then it’s here).
