The way my heart hurts
I wish we had history
To make sense of the depth…
I think about you everyday
and yet…
You’re neither seen or heard
Only felt with the ebb and flow
of complex, oblong, universe,
forging daily, new creations,
and still…
Deep in my stomach and chest
I can’t help but feel
admitting that you’re gone
is admitting it was real.
And so…
I roll with the labours in life;
next task, new laugh, find friends
none of it compares to what
I hope we will share again.