Thursday, January 8, 2026

A room with a chair

Listen to the hush 
between heartbeats
where absence learns my name.

Loneliness sits beside me,
not speaking,
only breathing my breath.

It is not a state,
it refuses stillness.

It is not an emotion,
it outlives tears.

It is a room with one chair,
facing the door.

I wait there nightly,
hands folded with old hopes.

Time drips like rain indoors,
Longing stains the walls.

Sighs become furniture,
Watching becomes prayer,
And endurance becomes habit.

I rehearse your arrival,
But forget your face,
Yet remember your silence.

Even despair grows tired!
Still, the door does not open.

Loneliness tucks me in,
Morning finds me unfinished.

©®Madhumita

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