by Kristal Peace

A woman walking alone on a foggy night.

What is the length of
Heartbreak? The colour of
Despair? I will tell you:
The length of heartbreak is

The story of the day
You left me. The colour of
Despair is the pool of tears
Dancing in my bewildered hands. And

The sound of guilt,
Does anyone know
How decisive and sure
The sound of guilt is?
I know: the sound of guilt

Is my metronomic steps
Walking away from
The ICU (I wanted a coffee),
Where you lay
Fighting for air as

I exhaled. Fear,
Can anyone describe the feeling
Of fear? Let me
Do it: the feeling of fear is
The doctor’s soft hand
Landing on my shoulder
Using it to support his

Voice as he whispers,
“I’m so sorry to have to
Tell you this: while
You were gone, he…
He didn’t make it.” Now,

What is left
To tell you? Ah, Yes.
The shape of shock.
I can tell you the shape of shock:
The shape of shock is the “O”

That grew on my lips
When the doctor’s hand
Took flight from my shoulder and
He deposited my inheritance on the

Wind of his impending flight:
“And your test results came back
Positive. You might also…There’s
No way to know. We’ll just have to
Wait and see. I’m so sorry.”

The length of heartbreak, the
Colour of despair, the wretched
Inheritance left on the air, the sound of
Guilt, the feeling of fear, the nail of grief
Whispered into my ear, the shape of shock
That swallowed my sorrow, and suddenly
We must return what we borrow.

Category: Featured, Poetry