friday

My life is so full,

But yet the absence of you

Makes me feel as though

I have nothing.

Am I the fool?

Or are you the treasure?

In the morning, I wake, and i fill my day.

I see people I haven’t seen,

I go places I haven’t been,

Because my therapist says It’s not good to spend too much time In my head.

But, as I do these things,

Part of me is there in that moment,

And part of me is waiting at the door.

God only knows how long she’s been there,

And with her forehead pressed against the window,

Her breath fogging up the glass,

She waits.

I tell her:

“You should eat!

You should sleep!

You need rest!”

She is silent.

She waits.

I bend down,

and for the forth day in a row,

I tell her:

“They aren’t coming home.”

And say says,

“I know.”

And in the silence,

She waits.

Because she can’t let go.

I write this with tears in my eyes,

But it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen me cry.