The Sad Ones

I woke twenty minutes ago

and the sadness is still there,

pressing on my ribs,

not fading.

Nothing happened in the dream.

Nothing scary.

Nothing violent.

Just the old apartment,

just the light

that color,

that specific gray,

the way it used to come through

before you left.

And you were there,

not saying anything,

and I kept trying

to speak,

kept opening my mouth

and nothing coming out,

the words stopping

at my throat,

the message stuck,

the urgency

with nowhere to go.

I wasn't running.

I wasn't falling.

I wasn't being chased.

I was just

trying

and failing

to tell you

something

I couldn't remember

upon waking,

something

that mattered

in the dream

but dissolves now,

leaving only

the weight,

the stuck feeling,

the knowledge

that I was trying

to say

something

you needed to hear,

something

I couldn't say,

something

I still can't say,

even now,

awake,

the dream gone,

the sadness

remaining,

the reason

gone.