Ways of Missing - Oct 21 2026

 

Ways of Missing

Oct 21 2026

I don’t mean missing out

or that missing tooth.

Not missed opportunities,

and not the bus that left without you,

standing in the rain

breathing exhaust. 

I mean the other ways.

How you can pass on the street

and miss each other

looking down at your phone.

How you can miss someone

who was once a friend,

is the lover who left,

or was taken from you

too soon;

whether by slow dementia

some chronic disease 

or sudden death.

How you can go missing yourself.

Perhaps to escape

failure, abuse, neglect,

or for just a change of air

  — a time-out

from the struggle and stress

of daily life.

Sometimes, even missing yourself,

putting distance

between the old version

and the reinvented you

you’re either working toward

or hoping to

  —  this time, for sure. 

And then there’s the girl

who disappeared one night

never to be seem again. 

The missing person 

that keeps haunting you

with guesswork, and dark conjecture.  

Like, why, and where, and when  . . .

  . . . The how, you dare not think about. 

Is she a Jane Doe

in some unmarked grave, 

sex slave in Dubai,

or homeless in Seattle?

A life left unanswered

perhaps for years.

To law enforcement 

a missing person is no priority.

The police will suggest she ran away,

remind you

that sovereign adults

answer only to themselves.

Trouble is, not only do you need their help,

the brush-off hurts. 

When the helplessness

feeds despair.

When all you can do

in the uncertainty

is imagine the unthinkable.

But you fear resolution as well.

Because while not knowing is hard

closure can hurt;

when knowing the worst

makes you miss them all the more.

This poem was inspired by a beautiful story I heard on The Moth — one of my favourite podcasts. Here’s a link:  https://www.themoth.org/stories/episodes/mortality

It’s the final story, and you can find it by fast forwarding to the 34 minute 10 second mark. (The others are also good listening!)