the heart swells
until the blood is gone
all that remains is darkness
abyss, void-- that escapes definition
where once you were, smiling, warm,
where once you were, real, whole
where once skin
would flush and lungs would
gasp and lips would
tremble at touch, no, thought--
the memory does not fade,
drifting away with time as some, ignorant of love, suggest
the pain does not dull into a slow constant throb,
it is a constant stream of electricity that surges
-with even the most minor of mental whisperings-
of your presence.
each day comes
again, with the sun
again, in the dark
and the sirens sound,
racing off to another's pain
and the world-
oh the world didn't stop just for us, no,
only my world.
and each day brings the swelling, the bursting and bleeding and the constant electrifying
and each night, too, a new surge, stronger than each preceding,
because this mind will not permit
will not permit the memory to fade.
because every moment of love,
where trembling hands reached out to find you in the dark
was worth this lifetime of struggle
to balance survival against the truth of losing you.