GRIEF Poem: Hymn for the Hollow, by Aanchal Tapade

Grief chews my ribs like an untamed hymn,
keeps me awake when the streetlights dim.
Your mug still stains on the windowsill,
cold as the hand I can’t keep still.

I smell your shirts when the house won’t sleep,
salt on my tongue where the nightmares seep.
Your laugh is a ghost in the hallway’s throat,
a knife in the air where your shadow wrote.

I beat my chest to a broken drum,
every thud asks why you don’t come.
Even the dawn feels counterfeit here,
a paper sun I can’t hold near.

But still your name claws stars apart,
scratching the sky like a desperate heart.
If grief is proof that you ever were mine,
then I’ll bleed this hymn till the end of time.

Author: poetryfest

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