Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night,
And reach for a person who is no longer here.
They have long left the empty side of the bed,
Yet the space is too big to remain this empty for so long.
I still see you in my dreams, random and sporadic–the pain lingers at times.
But still I smile, for that must mean something in the grand scheme of things.
I’ve started to forget the important details of your smile, your eyes, your laugh,
For the things I thought too unimportant to remember at the time.
It’s strange the way a lose of the heart differs from that of the mind,
Silly things will stay with us for years,
While the most important features are lost to time,
To the daily occurrences found in our mundane lives.
So I do my best to capture your essence, in worn photos, in memories of others,
Yet the ache is never the same as when a stranger on the train looks a little like you,
Or the smell of you finds me in the strangest of places.
I have to close my eyes to recall the first time I starting not thinking of you everyday,
For how could I not wish to see you, to touch you, to tell you my hearts woes?
And why is it that the more time goes on, the more it is easier to breath without you.
I wish I would be more enraged by this, but I breathe a shaky sigh of relief,
Because you were my life, but now you can only be a touch of marble,
The white alabaster shining, glowing in the faded light of a forgotten day.
So I kiss the only thing that ties me to you, my fingers straying,
But I know memories are meant for the living, since they have no use to the dead.
While I pray that your soul finds peace, I know mine needs solace, though
You are no longer here to give me it. So I find comfort in sin,
Living proof that we cannot go without fucking up a good thing,
Lest we know what true goodness is. My sin is not of greed or pride,
But, perhaps, a combination of all the supposed seven,
For who continues to torment themselves, after a loved one long has past?