I’m afraid

My own sense of being, is now one of alone-ness

Frightened, because I’ve been complete,

so now an inherent shadow, broken and disparate.

Reminders of what once was…

A birthday,

One of many, but oh so memorable

Because you professed your love.

Now just a memory, that moment of words

hearing and believing…

Wanting, no NEEDING it to be true…

But, like empty gifts, the ‘Deputy’ that stands in for your disappearance…..

You’re felt, but clearly not FELT……..

 

Not to touch, but become a fading memory………….

And still… Even if I count the days,

I don’t know why…

And yet, I still love you.    Does that make me weak?

Steve B 03/16

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