The Apartment
Today I saw the room where he took his life
And his kitchen
His bedroom
His bath
And a room that was meant for a child
Who never came
And another that was used by a wife
Who went away
And all the rooms were alike
The same despair cluttered them
And filled them up so full
That I went from room to room
Opening windows to let it out
But I couldn’t get rid of it all
Some crept under my skin
And keeps me awake still
At 2:48 in the morning
Labels: poetry
posted by Berlinbound at 2:48 AM
9 Comments:
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I knew a woman who hanged herself, it was hard to get away from (mentally)
no Richard, don't let it creep under your skin. it's spring and we are alive.
Amazing poetry; it made my skin creep as well.
Now tell us; who was he?
"It was a stunning day, almost frighteningly so. I don’t know whether to celebrate the weather or dig a deep hole."
Somehow, for me, your words above and this post are linked. I resonated so deeply with the words above-- they articulated something I always feel in the seasonal shift to Spring -- it's the weirdest thing-- but it's the time of year when I get most desperate and want to dig a hole and say sayonara to the absurdity--
(oops, sorry if this is TMI)
~bluepoppy
Your freaking me out Richard
jake ... yes, it hangs in the air - no pun intended.
chloe ... yes, but can't deny the feeling. that said, i don't expect it will last. it's just a poem.
cathy ... thanks cathy - i'm glad you liked it - and i never knew the man.
blue poppy ... it's always good to see you here - glad to know the words worked for you.
anon ... it's only a poem.
great poem, the way despair is more than despair.
Despair cluttering a room.
That's my favorite part.
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