The sorrow always comes
in your leaving and the rage
comes when I have you
yet life
still
is an empty damp box
on someone’s doorstep. That stripped
and stained mattress
of yours and the garbage that glares
at me from the floor… I am
trying to breathe
through omnipotent need but something
is crashing around me.
I cannot hold on
to wriggling things
that laugh and are too loud
as they go.
© Tina Zabielski 2011-2019
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theminstrelscitadel 
Very poignant and powerfull, the images of the empty damp box, the amtress, the trash are all very haunting and the ending leaves the rader with a question of strenght.
I am grateful for the time you took to ponder this piece and to reply. 🙂