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November 2, 2015



The stillness so deafening

as I sat in your room.

Your guitar quiet in the corner,

No drums going boom-boom.


I saw a sock on the floor

underneath the radiator.

The one that you told me

you’d look for later.


I saw my face in your mirror,

I wanted to smash the glass.

I wanted the world to end

and this madness to pass.


I heard your clock ticking

without rhythm or rhyme.

It mattered not, now,

no-one home at meal-time.


The centre of my universe gone;

the whole core of my being.

The blind panic that struck

now no sense I was seeing.


I wanted to lash out.

I kicked your football.

It bounced down the stairs,

and rolled into the hall.


This nightmare too crazy,

I wanted to scream,

And make everything right,

and awake from this dream.


I saw your dressing gown hung

on the back of the door.

And three pairs of your trainers,

neatly lined up on the floor.


Your room already a shrine;

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Nothing would ever again,

be like it was before.


I slept in your room

for many weeks after.

I awoke in the night

to the sound of your laughter.


And as time went by

I slowly learnt how to cope.

I met others in the same situation,

who gave me some hope.


I now feel so grateful

for every day spent with you,

and I celebrate your life,

the way that you’d want me to.


Sometimes I feel we are closer

than when you were alive.

It’s the way I get through.

It’s the way I survive.


God Bless you Darling.



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