All The Time There Are Things But Not Here

There it is again

The silence

So big it creates a physical presence in the room

 

She feeds silence her cup of tea

She sits on her bed and they converse,

As she stares at the ceiling.

Silence strokes her cheek and gathers her tears.

It whirls around her like a hurricane.

 

Somewhere there is more than this.

There is noise

There is busyness

There is joy

There are kids playing,

People drinking,

People on first dates, and second dates, and getting married, and having sex

And people doing things.

Feeling things.

 

 

Silence leaves them alone for now.

Tonight, it’s here.

 

She falls asleep,

Silence stroking her hair,

Like her mum used to.

 

All the time there are things (but not here)

 

 

by Joanna Woznicka

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