You

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Dear you,

Before you left, I was sunshine. I was light and love and sparkles and dreams; before you left, I was more than just a name.

Now a ghost am I. A tired whisper disappearing even before it was made.

Before you left, I was energy. I was alcohol and cigarettes and revelry. Before you left, I was meaning.

Now just a word am I, unspelled yet, and unassembled.

Dear you. . . now I am desperation. A wordless stranger seeking conversations with the air.

See there’s a hole you left behind. This hole. . . So vast and yawning, gaping ever still, with a view within so breathtaking.

Inside are pieces. Little, tiny pieces of a life before you left. Inside are dreams, galaxies and galaxies of dreams, all walking in the silence. Inside there are the cosmos, quietly under play; and there, far from my reach, deeper, and deeper still, is you.

Dear you. . . these sand bags aren’t helping. Something’s got to give. Can you stop the flood gates and just teach me how to live?

 

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