Not Here

I'll leave the spiders in the bathtub - 

they'll spin webs of my hair 

across the drain

so only water can pass through. 

I'll leave the stove on, hoping 

the smoke detector will go off 

and wake me, but it won't - 

the batteries died and you weren't

there to remind me. 

I'll leave the cat's bowl empty, 

staring at me, she crows in 

my ear. I turn towards you 

to ask, but you're not here. 

I forgot again, again. 

I'll leave the alarm on until 

the monotone beeping becomes

just another noise that we 

won't share. It's your turn 

to snooze, but again - 

I forget you're not here. 

Reviews

[Lovecraft]

It's poignant in its melancholic mood of missing the person who used to be there, almost like a ghost you can never quite see.

This is a pretty good poem though the inclusion of spiders was unnecessary (Because I have Arachnophobia).

Good job!