What will I become…
the world is dark
(Not a question)
What will I become without you standing here… filling that space
A little more empty than I was before
Riddled with holes that the stars see through at night
Pieces left open to the air, the elements
The breeze on ripped and jagged skin only hurts when I remember why the holes exist…
I see you
That smile that spreads, incomprehensibly wide, across a face more familiar than my own
I hear you
That laugh that brightens the world in impossible moments
I feel you
A leg across the sheets from mine
I know the texture of your moods, the sensation of your love, the pattern of scars across your skin
You are you, you are us, you are me
I remember why there are holes.
Ripped from me
More though, ripped from life…
A thing that you loved almost as much
The holes left from where you existed
Bullet holes from a drive by
Leaving a mausoleum of dreams that died with you
That is me… without you
A catacomb of memory and love
An empty (and riotously full), pathetic thing
How does the love dare to exist in this place of brokenness?
(a question)
How does it have the audacity to breathe?
How can it live without you… How can I
How does it dare?
Doesn’t it know…..
Doesn’t it know that you died…
Alone.
On our basement floor… Alone…
I’m sorry that I didn’t keep you safe
It was my job
My purpose
Why you loved me
Not a question… just another broken thing left behind
I could wish forever (and sometimes I do) but you’ll never come home
You died
YOU’RE DEAD
You died and this LOVE (writhing inside me) it doesn’t seem to understand
It keeps on living
Has the audacity to expand and hurt
Mocking… reminding.. Breaking parts of my soul that I didn’t know existed
Burning, burning, burning
Dark and consuming
Giving shape to the concept of “missing”
You are gone… This is what remains?
How…?
How do we live without you?
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