As the pen scrawls
feelings into words
my temple is awoken by
the touch of cold metal
and the trigger’s fast click.
My heart tells my hand
what letters to form.

The beautifully peaceful coexistence
is over.

Tension builds in my veins,
I cannot hide from myself any longer.

The demons are calling.

The numbness cradles me
like a sapling covered
with freshly fallen snow
on a perfect winter’s day.

My mind traces its steps
back to the days
of warm pizzelles
and stories told ten times over.
Of the smell of your hug
and the ring of your laughter.
Of your call every night at dinner time,
with just one more thing we must discuss.

Christmas will not be the same.

My mind is smart.
It knows the pain it will incur
if it accepts your leaving as fact.
It knows the tears, the heartache, the emptiness.
It has been hurt before.

Instead of feeling,
instead of believing,
instead of accepting,
it will gladly live in the past.
Refusing to acknowledge the present,
ignoring the reality of a future
where you no longer exist.

I hope you are enjoying your vacation.