Abscense

Curled against sheets once warmed by

another.

Waking to the empty light

Stumblin across little PostIt note

reminders,

Or a favorite shirt

no footsteps to wake me in the night

Or voice to fill the halls

Only emptiness to fill my little heart

and rememberance to fill the rooms.

(It still hurts, no matter the face, or place, it hurts everytime. I dont want to hurt anymore.)

02/27/2002

Posted on 02/27/2002
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