Absence Profound

I write you
and I write me
but all I see
is where we
fall through the cracks
into nothing,
into not really
you or me or us,
but something
that hangs between
the past and the now,
something that is
neither us nor them,
and I wonder
how I can breathe
when thoughts of you
leave me breathless, 
gasping,
holding my throat
for fear of dying
without breathing you in
the way I used to.
And you got away,
that one they always
refer to,
but I can’t imagine
you gone
even after so long
living without you.
Your ghostly image
haunts this life,
reminding me of one
I’ve never lived,
forcing me to reminisce
about nonexistent pieces
of a future lived without me.
It’s always
when I least expect it,
this feeling of loss,
of absence so profound
that it clings to
summer days
and cold winter nights
like a bandaid
meant to heal
but only allows
this longing to fester
until it bubbles up
to block the air
and the sunlight
and everything
but your face.

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4 thoughts on “Absence Profound

    • Thank you! I always have to go back and reread my own poem after a comment like this so I can remember the images I used. I don’t know why I can’t remember but usually the poem is gone from my brain the moment I hit publish. Haha! 🙂

      Like

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