Write Hard and Clear
about what Hurts.
A void. An emptiness. Perhaps it’s because I am a 21st century child that I look to my phone for reiteration of your absence and, upon seeing a lack of conversation the sinking feeling drowns me.
You are hell, purgatory and paradise.
Yet you are none.
You are all around me
Yet you are not here.
Confusion. Sadness. I’m drained and wounded, but this is a wound that will not gush blood.