100 Days Project

Kayla: Grief. Mercy. Language

I will write some form of poem or prose each day, experimenting with different structures, voices and styles in order to create emotive texts that explore the limits of language and meaning.

I miss you
like rain, like an ache.
I miss you like I miss you,
when you're in my hands,
under my eyelids, my breath.
I miss you like I'm missing you
always, never

Day 16:


There's something about the way a person's face moves when they say the words, "I miss you". Like they've just created a vaccum that cannot be filled. But they say it anyway, because it hurts more not to say it. It's bitter sweet.

It's hardest when you miss someone who is right infront of you. It's less of a statement, and more of a call.... "Please, come back to me. Please, cross the distance that we cannot see."