Empty room

Empty room,

tucked sheets.

Space unneeded for the cries

of emptiness

in his soul.

 

Bedside thoughts

by TV flickers.

Cigarettes burn wide black-lit holes

in stains

of their expense.

 

Mirror lap,

second time around.

Skin may house the heart,

still mortality

needs passion’s fire.

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23 thoughts on “Empty room

  1. how true man…skin may be the house but often there is no one home…if we let the heart fall…nice textures to this…such as the line about the cigarette…

  2. Some great thoughts in here. I feel I’m going to have to reread the middle stanza a few times, as its surrounded by 2 really incredible ones and i fear there’s a bit of an eclipse going on for me. Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed reading your work

  3. You have that hotel room bored miasma down, and taken it one step further, one layer deeper. The last stanza is totally cool, but also liked the first, with its concept of orderly, sterile emptiness within and without.

  4. looking in that mirror, a second lap … it can be so discouraging when we recognize we’ve come to the same place/lesson again…

    maybe that’s just my read… but you’ve got me thinking…

  5. An interesting write which is open to more than an ‘on-the-face-of-it’ interpretation….like the way you describe spaces and atmosphere. // Peter.

  6. Great imagery Chris, I felt like I was sitting in the room through that second stanza. Ending with the cry for passion out of the lonely hollow…really touching. ~ Rose

  7. I think Hedgewithch said it perfectly Chris…. You described the heck out of a terrible hotel stay….. I remember a night I spent at a hotel for a funeral of someone very close to me…. This poem should have been hanging on the door, next to the yellowing copy of the “Hotel Rules…” Great insight…..

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