Insomnia

I 
miss it, 
my love, 
the sound 
of 
your 
breathing 
in sleep, 
your heart 
beating 
next 
to mine. 
I 
miss 
it 
so much. 
I 
miss 
you. 
Goodnight, 
darling 
sweetie.
💔

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Better

People
tell
me,
all
the
time,
it'll get better.
Give it
a
year,
and
you'll feel
differently.
Does
a 
person
who's lost
a
limb
get
better?
Will a year
make
a
difference
to
them?
The only 
difference
between
an
amputee
and
me
is that
you can see
what
they
have lost.
I have lost
my heart,
my soul,
my everything,
and yet,
I live
and look
whole.
This is
my
sin.
This is
what
allows
people
to 
decide
that
I will
get
"better".
And all those
well-meaning
people
who say
that it will
"scar over", that
you'll still walk,
but
with a limp
to remember
it
by,
simply do not
understand.
I walk.
I put
one
foot
in front
of
the
other.
Because
I need 
to 
take
care
of things,
as
he
would 
want
me
to.
But
I
am
empty
hollow,
walking,
breathing
but
already
dead.
Do not look
to me
for
comfort.
I have
none
to 
give.
I
walk
and
I
wait.

peace

I haunt 
cemeteries,
empty 
churches,
funerals.
I
find
that
being among 
the dead
brings me
far
more
peace
than
being among
the
living.

Music

 I used
to
sing
my
voice soared
in
duet
with
his.
He met me
singing.
But
with
him
gone,
I
find
that
I
am
mute,
for
the music
has
truly
died.

loneliness

Someone asked me
to describe
the smell
of
loneliness.
It is
a
bottle
of his cologne
still on a shelf,
his clothes
hanging
all
in
a row
in 
his 
closet,
the
flannel
shirt
of his
that 
I 
sleep in.
It is
the
smell
of him
without
him.

Now

Eight months.
Yesterday.
Today.
Now.
It's
always
now.

Tonight

When I've cried 
'til
I'm drowning,
when I've bled
my heart 
white,
when I'm hoarse
from
my howling,
will
I
finally
see you
tonight?