You left without a word
no goodbye, no explanation,
no time to memorize your voice.
--
The day the neighbors told me,
they smiled through scripture,
bible in hand.
--
I didn't understand.
--
I lived a charmed, spoiled
life. The bratty girl with
more toys than I knew what
to do with.
--
Then you died.
--
At your funeral, I squeezed my
eyes shut as tight as I could
I felt my anger bleed into crowds
of family and friends.
--
I had spent months being my
normal selfish self while you
lay in your room, cancer
eating away at you.
--
It's been 8 years since
you left. And I feel guilt
for not cherishing you more.
And for being this angry now.
--
So thanks for teaching me
how to wait
for the people I love
to leave in silence
no warning, no reason,
just gone.
--
You didn’t give me closure.
You gave me absence.
You left me
with the ache
of unfinished sentences
and no way
to ask you anything.
--
You left me before my life
had even started.
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
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