I'm not sure if he knows
that often, my eyes are without mascara
and lack the soft sweep of a muted brown

Does he realise
my limbs are not long and slender
and definitely not as lean as they once were

Is he aware
that my stomach is no longer flat
or even slightly firm but rounded and fleshy

Does he know all this
because each day
he looks at me as if I am beautiful

~

I felt such a wrenching pain
leaving you behind

How can someone die slowly inside
but go on living anyway?

The ache and torturous
tearing of my heart
deepened at the thought of you alone

Tiny traces of tears
still trapped between my lashes
mirror your face, your eyes
and reflected my bleeding heart

~