Featured Writer


Shari Cross is a 35 year old writer and teacher who lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. When she’s not living in her head with her fictional characters, you can find her teaching first grade, reading, or cuddling with her husband, her baby girl, and her dog. 

The Void

By Shari Cross

What will you feel when you lose me? When you reach out and that tether falls into a void instead of finding me on the other end? It will happen. This dance between us is not sustainable.

How will it feel to get nothing back but your own echo, laced with a breath that used to be mine? Will you feel that loss? That ghost of my presence standing over your shoulder, within arms reach, but never tangible.

Will you regret then? Will you wish you had offered more during this dance of ours? Led me down a different path? One that ended with us jumping into the void together, not knowing where we’d land but hopeful that it would be in each others arms.

There were no promises in the void, but I would have explored it with you. Tied my tether to your lips, where your words and breath filled me with life.

But those lips aren’t mine to be tied to. Your words aren’t only for me. They could be. I believe there’s a part of you that wants them to be, but you also know that words are often nothing more than a ruse. So you won’t offer me yours and you don’t believe mine.

That’s the irony; that when the music fades away it will not only take the lyrics we wrote with it, but also the ones we kept inside. Neither of us will ever know the full truth, the real depth of it all.

And now the dance is coming to an end, the music fading into a distant melody; and it’s taking you with it. The tether pulls, telling me to look back and find you, to wrap it around you and hold on with all I have. But I know that if I do, another dance will start, only to end more painfully than the last. The push and pull of thirsting for something so much that you fear when you give in, it will only drown you. So I won’t look back. I’ll cut the tether and let you fade until your song becomes my past; the melody of what we could have been in harmony with the reminder of what we lost.