Fragments of Cassandra

There is a grief
I never knew existed-

to watch the person
you would build a home inside

still searching
for someone else’s door.

To witness them
aching aloud

for arms
you’ve spent forever
holding open.

It is torture
without a witness.

Because every part of me
is screaming;

“Choose me.”

“I would have stayed.”

“I would have loved you
the way your heart
has been begging to be loved.”

But love,
I’ve learned,
cannot be argued into existence.

So I stand
at the edge of your sorrow,
watching you drown

while my hands,
desperate and trembling,

remain full of air.

I watch your eyes
learn the language
of your phone-

how they brighten
at their name,

how they darken
at their silence.

One vibration

and your soul
abandons the room.

One unanswered message

and your smile
becomes a funeral procession.

I memorize
every rise
and every ruin,

wondering
if you’d ever notice

the earthquakes
you leave inside me.

Because every ounce
of love
you pour toward them

is another reminder
that I am standing
exactly where you cannot see.

The cruelest part
has never been
that you love them.

It is knowing
you are terrified
of losing them-

while never once
looking at me
with the same fear.

As if my leaving
would only create
an empty chair.

While theirs
would end the world.



Im lev shavur,
The Mourning Bird