The Sadness

My sadness is biblical,
cataclysmic, apocalyptic.
Bigger than you’ve
ever seen.
My sadness is voracious,
loquacious, tenacious.
Front page headline.
The plague of the northeast.
I bring the locusts with me when
I give into it. My entire bedroom
looks like the quiet after the feast.
My cicada sadness. My underground
sadness. Sleeping carcass hanging
on your windowsill sadness.
My hollowed tree sadness. My
favorite brick tied to my favorite
ankle sadness.
Bottom of the river sadness.
Once a year hunger sadness.

I pick a day and I eat the wood
from the walls. I wear my curtains
as a veil and marry my empty bed.
My abandoned building sadness.
Dirty sheets sadness. Teeth at
the throat sadness.
I pick a day and I swallow every
stone that’s ever been thrown.
I pick a day and I gnaw at the
floorboards.

Sadness so big it could carry me.
Sadness so big it’s everywhere.
Sadness so big it’s like a God that loves me more than anyone else.

By Caitlyn Siehl

Biography:

Caitlyn Siehl is a poet from New Jersey. Currently finishing her senior year of college, she is going on to receive her Master’s degree in Communication at Rutgers University. She has published one book of poetry entitled What We Buried and has co-edited two poetry collections entitled Literary Sexts Volume 1 and Literary Sexts Volume II, all through Words Dance Publishing. She enjoys spicy Jalapeno chips and being surrounded by dogs at all times.