Emptiness
There’s an empty place in my heart,
That no one can fill
But you.
There’s an empty spot in our bed
That lies cold now
Abandoned
Awaiting your return.
There are empty shoes on the floor
Abondoned
That once belonged to you.
There are empty clothes in our closet
That once
You wore.
The wine bottles are not empty, though
Because you are not here to empty them.
The milk will soon go sour,
Waiting to be drunk by you.
Your bread has long since molded,
Your coffee and tea and your cookies
All gone stale.
Your evidence has been erased from the bathroom
No more toothbrush
No more shaving cream
No more razor
No more cologne
No more you.
But worst of all of these empty places
Is the bedroom.
The bed is forever cold
Even under the covers
And the light in there doesn’t look the same anymore,
It seems somehow dimmer, weakened
Like me.
When I enter our home
And I see everything
Just as you left it
When you went away,
How can I touch it?
How can I move the last thing you touched?
How can I erase your mark?
How can I make any move to ease the aching of my heart
Without breaking it further?
There is an empty place in my heart.
So cavernous it seems
That nothing may fill it up again.
