It was abandoned
Like the book unread
The tea gone cold
The crumpled newspaper at a bus stand left to the mercy of the wind.
Awkward, self conscious letters
Indecipherable chicken scratchings,
A long forgotten tag etched into a lonely wooden bench
Palpable silence and absence,
The anti-climactic quest doomed before it started.
Diminutive earthquakes that throw you off balance
Make you unsteady on your feet
Lose your centre of gravity and all reason and rationality
Shedding of layers and realities that were not meant for you
Then the silent mourning and the soft ache
And the visceral emptiness that pervades the crevices of the room
and brings me to my knees.