Everything in my universe keeps tells me to erase you.
Like an interception, in the form of a phone call
From a minister just before I began writing this.
And I've considered it, tried to...but I keep getting rid of it, that idea.
I could never erase you...even if the desire were truly there.
I have been so dedicated to God lately, every second has been
like open dialogue. Where I'm babbling on to Him like I used
to do to you. I wonder if I haven't been using Him as a distraction,
like I also used to do to you. But that is neither real nor a bad thing. Just a thing I think, I guess.

So they keep telling me to erase you. Teachers, mentors, pastors,
friends, spiritual mothers, and sometimes strangers.
It just makes me feel alone mostly. How could they understand at all
if that's their conclusion? But I guess they see things through better eyes
than mine. After all, my eyes are what caused all this trouble for you and I. I mull what they say over. I really have had a good time, I promise...But there is always this thing. Snapping me back into the world that I exist in...the world you no longer exist in...Like a parachute giving me whiplash when I was floating along beautifully without it.
It's a thing like the sheet music to "What A Wonderful World" appearing out of thin air. Or pulling in to church to find you right there. And I run from these things! Hold them close...shove them in the closet under piles of things I no longer use. But they always surface.
Like someone telling me the first time I meet them about Rebecca's cheek bones. Or Don Draper's face, which I swear will be yours in about ten years or so. Even a dinner with friends can't make you disappear because inevitably they'll ask me about you at some point. Or someone won't know you've gone away. Or I'll walk through the woods...after traveling by boat, after smiling until my heart explodes to hear a whisper on the wind...of your voice. But I can't complain.
Twould be far worse a fate to suffer never hearing, seeing, thinking, or dreaming of you again.

I was in love with a Poem:

The poet lured her victims into her wild kingdom of
Word, words, words, that
became the forest of ****** illusion
verses and verses that I never encounter;

In this kingdom I never notice the Sunrise before Sunset
The chanting before the protesters
Lightening before the winds
suddenly brought on by the rain,
That triggers the mighty storms:

The poetics effects of Similes, Hyperbole,
Understatement and personification devices got my attention
Pages after pages,
line of words that opened my eyes,
The mighty pen, a trending poem,
and there I was a loyal reader
With an amazing cup of hot coffee

The poem took me through
this much-modernized tale of
Alice’s rabbit hole adventures

Poems are to be read aloud,
loving making is meant to be private
So is mourning for the dead:
Some things are just meant to be...private

My love for the poem and
my admiration on its poetic views
Is more than human emotions,
than my stimuli of brain ***
I read the poem while sipping my coffee,

Birth, death, politics and religion
***, drugs and empty souls : human emotions,
This much-modernized free verse poetry can causes multiplies  *******