Without that moment, I would not be walking dead.
They killed me when they said that you had died and I will never see your beautiful face again. Every word tore away another limb but never my passion for you. I hated them for their jealousy of our love and felt that I had failed in our secret vow to protectone another. My love did not keep you here with me. I cannot touch your skin or kiss your lips, yet still feel them both constantly.
They cruely sent me away with no chance to spend one more moment with you, just to rest my eyes on your face and remember every curve would have been enough. How will my heart squeeze through every day without your smile? How will my night not be unbearable with loss and cold? How can another day exist without your beauty and your grace?
Each day that passes is another painful turn of truth. I could only imagine your footsteps, you won’t be appearing before me. My grief makes me see your image in every corner, every object takes on your presence and I want to bring you out of it all.
Julia Manuel on Poem #4 ingridfalconi on Poem #4 Julia Manuel on Poem #4