Empty

My god, the emptiness.
It’s unbearable at times.

Why do I torture myself by reading the words you wrote to me?  I really need to stop but I can’t.  You’re so beautiful and alive.  In every way.  I can’t believe you’re gone.  I won’t stop believing you’ll find your way back but the agony of now is too much.

It sits heavy on my chest, crushing me under its weight, until I can’t breathe.
The despair!
A vacuous pit where light can’t penetrate.

I just let the emails pile up now.  There’s like 98 of them, I think.  I was cleaning them out as soon as they popped up but now I just let them hang out in some kind of hoarders paradise in my inbox.  It used to be so neat and orderly with only the two of us in there.

I haven’t been sleeping

My complexion is a dry riverbed

There are whole ravines under my eyes 

I’ve emptied out all the avenues of my heart;
cleared away all the clutter
except for yours.

I’ve hung your things upon the walls.

You’re the only one who lives there now.

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