Empty by Enfys Edrich
My heart has been cored like an apple. I am hollow, filled with salt chill wind where once there was flesh.
My hands are slick-sharp with unshed tears which flow down through my body and ice out my blood.
What is there left of me beneath the ice shell of grief?
I am but a collection of memories bound up in tattered parchment with pretensions of breath.
Empty except for the purple grey song of grief with high sharp flutes and forlorn oboes threading through what is left of my soul.
Loss has not left me empty but rather bereft of self.
My heart is not broken, for there is nothing of me to hold a heart.
A gust of wind that once would chill me to the bone, now would be enough to send me flickering out of reality.
Perhaps then I would see you in whatever plane has taken you.
The sky itself has wept for you where I could not.
I am lost, little one, shivering in my grief-soaked cloak.
Dragging heavy across the ever-marching ground as I am doomed to wander in despair.
After all, what does it mean to be home when I can never again share it with you?
Enfys Edrich is a white queer disabled writer and musician living in Naarm. Their writing explores pain and connection, through themes surrounding gender, disability, and loss. You can find them on twitter at @eldritchenfys. or on their website at https://enfysconnection.wordpress.com.