sometimes it's the thoughts of life that make up the most of me. sometimes it's the joy, sometimes the pain. not sure what happened, but now the thoughts are different. who makes the rules of pain, and how much of it is what i bring to myself?
Eyes downcast
Afraid to look
For fear of meeting your eyes
Humbling life now
Wishing to see where you are
All the past
Fighting with the future
Heard you were doing well
Working, praying, and loving
With someone else
Heart mending
Scars holding it together
But your scent
Still surrounds me
My favourite shirt
Still smells like you
My body waits
For your touch
Which will never come again
And now home
Is empty.
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