The House the Ocean Left Behind, poetry by Natalia Aeschliman at Spillwords.com

The House the Ocean Left Behind

The House the Ocean Left Behind

written by: Natalia Aeschliman

Inspired by Andy + Jamie Anderson

 

Grief is the house the ocean left behind—
walls salted, floorboards swollen,
air still humming with the memory of waves
that once knew your name.

I walk through it barefoot,
each step a soft collapse of sand underfoot,
as if the ground keeps remembering
what it used to hold.

Your absence hangs like curtains
that no longer move with the wind,
heavy with the weight
of a storm that has already passed
yet keeps echoing in the bones of the room.

Some mornings, I swear I hear you—
the faint clink of dishes in the kitchen,
the ghost of laughter breaking like shoreline glass,
and the sound of your voice, early morning,
matching so well with the first light of the sun
that the whole house used to feel softer
just because you were in it.

But grief is a tide that doesn’t ask permission.
It pulls back
and it crashes forward,
reshaping the edges of my life
with hands I cannot see.

I am learning to breathe again
in this half-drowned house,
patching windows with memory,
sweeping hope into corners
where shadows still rest.

And though the ocean took you—
it left me the sound of its longing,
the quiet ache of return,
and the truth that love,
even when broken,
still tries to come home.

Subscribe to our Newsletter at Spillwords.com

NEVER MISS A STORY

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR NEWSLETTER AND GET THE LATEST LITERARY BUZZ

We don’t spam! Read our privacy policy for more info.

Latest posts by Natalia Aeschliman (see all)