K.S. ANTHONY: Vacuum

09 October 2016


There are some nights when the only person in the world I want to talk to is the only person in the world I can't call. A vacuum where a heart once beat for me.

Have you ever sat across from an empty chair in a restaurant and wished for someone else to be there, someone to catch staring at you as you look up from your menu? I have. I do.

Have you ever felt the strangling need to hear someone say your name? A voice that once was half of the narration of your life, first faint, then gone. I have. I do.

Have you ever wanted to say the impossible, then found you could not? Pride. Convention. Fear. They will bind your hands and your mouth. Have you known them? I have. I do.

Have you ever looked out a window and wished for a ticket to Anywhere But Here? I have. I do. In the gin-gray hours, in the smoggy morning; in the siren-sharpened night, in the bright lights of hotel rooms. I've watched hopes and friends and love disappear like streetlights or stars going out one by one, some in silence, others in bitter words and regret.

Some just grow dim.

I have. I do.