Metaphorically missing, technically present.

apartment bed cardboard comfort

The dog ate a baggie of heroin
that was haphazardly
thrown over the fence;
the dog started having seizures
and snarled at shadows,
the dog was never quite the same.


I don’t remember when
I realized you were
metaphorically missing
but technically present,
it must have been when I noticed
your fresh wardrobe
and heavily guarded phone.


The dog stayed alive
despite the accidental overdose
and distressed panting;
a veterinarian gave the all clear
but there’s an irrevocable hunger
behind it’s unfocused eyes.


Your new cologne lingers
on the cold side of the bed,
and I wonder if you even knew
that I hated the smell of sandalwood,
I wonder if you even remembered me at all.


The dog escaped in the early morning
after hours of frenzied digging,
it bounded into the street
and was struck dead by your car
careening down the road,
trying to make it home before the break
of unforgiving sunlight.


© Nancy Botta, 2018


13 thoughts on “Metaphorically missing, technically present.

  1. Pingback: Metaphorically missing, technically present. — Rusted Honey – Commentary, Outrages, Prose

  2. Dramas colliding ….as they eventually do. My former husband suddenly updated his wardrobe, started dressing nicer. I didn’t clue in. Too rapt in being a mom, dealing with everyday crisis. My daughter found the underwear i the backseat of his car. Oh this poem speaks to me.

    Liked by 1 person

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