I’ve noticed it’s the quiet that hits the hardest
The vacancy of your notifications on a busy day
The little interruptions I became quite accustomed to
And I miss those ever-loving interludes with you
The way you’d plead and beg for more time
I never quite understood how little time we had left
If only I’d known, I would’ve never said goodbye
© 2026 Michelle Cook
Danny 💔 – November 20th, 1969 – May 11th, 2026. Neither Brian nor I will ever forget you… xoxo
We never expect that dreams will fade
but somehow, they always do.
And the only way to fix those dreams
is to eventually dream anew.
Disappointments are never fun
life is much more than just a game.
Yet sometimes hearts and minds disconnect
and things just aren’t the same.
We can feel empty, defeated, deflated
as time begins to wear us thin.
And as much as we don’t want the changes
we’re often forced to begin again.
We can’t always see all the positives
even though they’re not that far.
In the meantime, we might just have to sit alone
and be happy with who we are.
© 2025 Michelle Cook
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We hold on to the feelings
We all once knew
The times when love blossomed
And progressively grew
But things change
And people pull away
We’re left not knowing
What else we can say
It’s so hard to let go
Of someone close to our heart
But often they’ve decided
To make a new start
We can suffer for years
Wishing things were different
The past can haunt us
When we become reminiscent
Then we realize the truth
That life must go on
Even if those we once cherished
Have now permanently gone
And we get through it all
Letting go day by day
Knowing there’s nothing more
We could ever do or say
© 2017 Michelle Cook
There are days
when everything is right,
days when all the fields
shine so bright.
But today is not
one of those days,
instead, it’s just proof
of how nobody prays.
Today the sun
has lost her glow,
and the rain sent instead
has been all just for show.
Fattened gray clouds
still gush in sheets,
flooding sunken corners
on empty streets.
Sorry puddles
reflect sullen skies,
waters blurry black
like mascara eyes.
Echos of harsh words
woven in the winds,
a mournful reminder
of how the story always ends.
© 2025 Michelle Cook
Photo generated with AI
Wilted, that’s how I feel,
a flower that’ll never bloom again.
My petals droop and die,
fluttering to the ground one by one;
will I ever be restored?
I’m going through this phase;
maybe someone can relate.
Emptiness encases me
like a thick woolen glove.
I’m trying to escape the feeling
of being smothered and surrounded
by all that has invaded my insides
over these past fifty-some years.
Is it too much to ask
to be able to understand myself?
© 2025 Michelle Cook
*These were some personal sentiments I found when reading through my journal over this past year. I think I’m much closer to understanding myself now, but there are days when the weight of this world still closes in on me and reminds me of all the things I wish I could change. I’m happy that I never stay stuck in my head for long, and I generally snap back after a few days of wallowing in self-pity. I’m continuing to look for ways to keep a positive outlook on life. Nobody wants to be droopy forever. 😉
Photo generated with AI
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