Unseen Testimony
Woe…
Woe to the man,
one with grief.
For he will never
say no to grief.
When tears roll down your cheeks,
you don't stop them.
You let them touch you,
only they hug you,
wanting nothing back.
And the soft towel,
my trusted companion.
It helps.
It is the only witness,
testifying for me,
watching my soul break.
I don't want to lose it.
I would rather
lose myself.
I look around.
There is no one to hold me.
Only the towel is with me.
But I won’t hold it,
I can only see it.
So I can honestly say:
Mom, everything’s good.
For my trusted companion
is the only proof
of my unseen testimony.
I want it to stay dry.
To remain clean,
untouched by pain,
unlike myself.
Now my lips waver.
My throat hurts.
My vision blurs.
I know what's coming.
It’s not a smile.
It’s something… familiar.
Home sweet home.
I am grief, falling...
the water in my eyes.
And my companion
still dry.
Copyright © Emre Isikgor | Year Posted 2026
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