The centre of me aches.

My circle is full,
There's no space for you
But yet you push
Encroaching on my depths.
                                                                  Tangible.
                              Languishing.
The need for warm drinks on chilly nights.
The arm on a shoulder after a weep.
The ache from a belly laugh so hard you cried.
                              A space I didn’t know needed filling.

I’ve lost you before I had you.
You’re not mine to keep.

The centre of me aches.

My circle is full,
And yet you’re there,
pushing.