ab-sense
She died without knowing that I loved her.
On that day
there was no mid-night…
For who could sense
the halfway point?
I cried,
as the stars shined dark.
The Moon was full,
but eclipsed by mourning.
The Sun,
laid cloaked
behind the clouds,
too embarrassed
to lift its head out...
burning
false hope.
That night
Silence
filled the absence
of Time…
as the hours
played hooky
from their positions
on the clock.
Copyright © 1986-2017
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com
PoetryByAlan.com
She knew
She died without knowing I love her. She had so much pain at the end, I thought it was
selfish to tell her about my feelings as she laid there in the oncology ward, retching uncontrollably from the medicine that was to make her better.
It all started when I answered the ad for a math tutor, she was in her senior year of college and needed this class to graduate. She answered the door, and I was struck by her smile.
As we went on, I'd steal silent stares. We grew close over those weeks, we became friends too. But then she started looking like she had lost a lot of weight in those last few sessions. She had asked me to come to the doctor with her, because she was scared. She said she had a feeling she knew what it was.
So I went with her, all the while, taking in those long silent stares as much as I could. I didn't say anything then because she just needed a shoulder at that time. A hand to hold on to. And that's what I did till the end, held her hand, somehow, I felt like she knew.
Hushed
She died without knowing that I love her.
Without laying, warm and soft, on my chest.
No singing softly as she begins to stir.
Nor suckling sweetly at my breast.
Never hearing my whispers of affection.
No tender kisses on sweet creamy skin.
Broken promises of a Mothers protection.
A life ended without a chance to begin.
She died without knowing that I love her.
Without losing myself in her eyes.
No sleepless nights that are a blur.
No soothing hungry cries.
Two hundred and seventy days of hope.
In just a few moments, torn apart.
Left in agony, expected to cope,
With empty arms, and an empty heart.
Without my other half
She died without knowing I love her.
I was finally ready to tell her how I felt. Hoping that I wasn't about to be rejected by the one person I love more than life itself. She died just as I was coming to realize what this feeling in the pit of my stomach, the ache in my heart all meant. I can't know right now if I will ever love again. It feels as though my other half has been ripped from me before we could even be connected. She was my best friend for so many years. I can't believe it took me this long to realize how I truly felt. Now I will always wonder if she felt the same about me. She was so pure of heart so kind to everyone. How can someone take away that kindness from this world. Her beautiful bright blue eyes, so full of emotion. Just gone. I will never know another soul with her beauty. I don't want to. I want to always remember her beautiful face, her giving heart, her kind nature. I don't want to forget how much I love her even if she died without knowing I do.
The Blind Death
She died without knowing that I love her. My only morning flower wilted by midday and fell by dusk, unseen yet by the shadowed words only night can cast light on; my small star burst to scatter herself across a galaxy not known to me, unnoticed yet by the words I wrote on the black in scribbled constellations.
She is gone now, and her last breath lingers like the last pale beams of moonlight in my looking glass after dawn; and yet, she could not even sink away into horizon without my love. She is gone now, and her eyes have sunken to the blue of abyss, and her lips have parted into languishing petals whose scent now floats out the window. Her pale hand in mine could be any, it seems, for in these final moments when I was to grant her light she only met blindness; and she died without known that I love her.