Out Loud. A poem.

I came across a poem on Facebook by Becky Hemsely called Quietly (I'll share it below). It inspired me to write instead, Out Loud. Because, yes, we can all relate to the quiet longing of missing someone. Can we also acknowledge the loud, angry, storm that also comes with grief and loss?

I missed you out loud today.
I missed you out loud today, with a thunderous cry,
No quiet whispers, no soft goodbye,
Like a storm that raged, the silence torn,
Every breath a howl, every thought forlorn.

Some days I miss you in shadows and dreams,
Where silence wraps me in its muted seams,
But today my heart could not be tamed,
It roared your absence, it screamed your name.

I crashed through the day, like a wave on the shore,
Unable to hide, unable to ignore,
The empty space where you used to be,
A void that echoed relentlessly. 

I cursed the sky for being so blue,
For how could it shine when it’s missing you?
The world spun on, as if unaware,
But I was caught in the storm we share. 

Some days the pain is a quiet tear,
But today it was loud, and everyone could hear,
I missed you with fire, with every beat,
A flame that danced down every street. 

So I raged and I cried, and I let it all out,
Because today I missed you with every shout,
No longer silent, no longer subdued,
I missed you out loud, and the world knew.

Quietly

I missed you quietly today. So quietly that no one noticed.

I missed you as I climbed out of bed and as I brushed my teeth; when I waited at the lights on the drive into work and as I heard the rain outside my window.

I missed you as I ordered lunch and as I kicked off my shoes when I got home; as I switched off the lights and climbed into bed for the night.

I missed you without tears or noise or fanfare.

But oh how I felt it.

I felt it in the morning, at lunchtime, in the evening and at night. I felt it as I woke, as I waited, as I worked. I felt it at home, on the road, in the light, in the dark, in the rain.

I felt it in every one of those moments, each one sitting heavier and heavier as the weight of me missing you kept growing and growing.

Yes, I missed you so quietly today.

But I felt it so loudly.

*****

Becky Hemsley 2024