Speaking to No One

by Eden Roquelaire about a year ago in sad poetry

A Poem for the Lonely

Speaking to No One

The silence is crushing,

I am speaking to no one.

My heart aches and I wonder,

"How long? How long?

"How long can I survive like this?

"With my feeding tube cut loose?"

My heart is bleeding,

I am speaking to no one.

And I know I could have cried.

And I know I could have died.

The silence is crushing,

My muscles are atrophied.

I have never felt so empty,

In how long? How long?

How long will my body survive?

With bones and limbs so leaden?

My voice is cracked plaster,

I am speaking to no one.

I heard a phantom in the alley,

I hoped I would hear the door open.

But no one came, and nothing moved,

I thought it could be you.

Never have I waited for so long,

To hear such a meaningless sound,

As a doorway cracking open,

As a footstep on the concrete.

I remember words that once held meaning,

I thought I remembered something,

I remember heated breaths in total dark,

I remember loving you.

I know that I did try.

I knew that I had to try.

I had a thought today,

With a mind numb from pain.

I feel like I haven't heard a voice

For how long? How long?

To go without a feeling?

To go without a response?

The room is empty.

I am speaking to no one.

The silence is oppressive,

Like a heavy monster crushing me.

I haven't seen a friendly face

In so long, so long.

So long to go without you,

The comfort of the familiar.

The coffer is empty,

I am speaking to no one.

My dreams are ragged,

My breaths are haggard.

I've gone so long without a word,

And the nights last forever.

Are you crying now?

Do you care to remember?

A minute goes by, but it feels like an hour,

An hour that fades into a million years.

This silence is a graveyard,

Of all potential hopes.

I breathe a broken sigh that lasts

For so long, so long.

So long to suffer without comfort,

Comfort of the familiar.

Your warmth is growing cold,

I am speaking to no one.

I think I must have died.

I think I may have died.

This desert's filled with landmines,

All my thoughts disintegrate,

Heard by no one, cherished by ghosts,

You're gone, you're gone.

Gone from the normalcy of my routine,

Gone from the adoration of my heart.

How can I live inside this darkness?

My words heard by no one.

I saw a future once, so long ago,

I dream I thought unreachable.

Of him and me by a distant sea,

And all pain washed away on the waves.

Washed away to a land beyond memory,

Islets in the River Lethe,

But we were cursed to drown in them,

Lives no rafts or arms could save.

I remember things that had such meaning,

I thought I remembered something,

I remember long nights spent in conversation,

I thought I knew you.

I think we both have died.

I wish you would have cried.

The silence is regressive,

A sullen and unwavering companion.

My plain doll sits motionless,

For so long, so long.

For so long have I stayed awake,

Laboring in my empty state.

Long ago I was speaking to you,

Now I am speaking to no one.

I feel like I could die.

I am sure that I shall die.

I miss the voices in the night.

I miss the shadow in my sight

With a pain that's so obsessive,

I can only wait patiently so the sun.

In this silence so oppressive,

If I continue speaking to no one.

What have I done?

sad poetry
How does it work?
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Eden Roquelaire

Eden is a writer, comedian, artist, musician, and model. She has her own blog focusing on the works of David Lynch: https://garmonblogzia.wordpress.com/

See all posts by Eden Roquelaire