Eleven months.
Three hundred and sixty two days.

I was never sure if I could be wounded any more.
But I could.
And I was.
She left me on her birth day.
A quite one it was that year.
I asked around.
You undeniably left me.
It happened before,
but like this?
I couldn't remember the last time it felt like I stuck my heart into a burning *** of oil.
I could recall it hurt.
Not like this
You asked me to wait for you.
That you'd get better after just a few months.
You said you had to get help.
You were forced.
They took you away from me.
I wanted to run to you but you told me to stay.
I was useless, like a queen exposed.
Checkmate
I was stripped of my footpath and contentment.
I was left searching.
Searching for the reasons you told me I'd have to bleed for.
The reasons why you were gone.
I picked up each broken glass,
bit by bit.
My heart and mind ached to hear your voice.
To see your face.
To hug you.
I wanted to feel closure while you gone.
But then you vanished.

Eight Hours Apart

You were only eight hours away from me.
Yet I couldn't feel your presence encircling me anymore.
You no longer held onto my dreams and whispered sweet words.
I would feel little when I could feel your tears drop to the floor.
I felt like a bean compared to your garden of pain.
Though, I sprouted through.
I worked through the hurt,
stitching it
one by one
into myself.
Repairing the once empty space with ruin, understanding and martyr.

Three Days Away**

Being apart,
had unmistakably killed the living thing you call a soul
inside me.
It ate at me until I finally released it from hunger.
It didn't shine nor buzz.
I was lost,
but I don't want to be found.
The great and Almighty were washed away from yesterdays glass.
Three days.