It's the kind of loss that shakes your soul
makes you miss all the things
that made a quiet home in your heart
and lived there as tight-lipped tenants
for so long that you forgot
the weight of their existence until they were gone

you, all of you -
your fingertips on my skin,
your eyelash on my cheek,
your mouth on my neck,
your hand in my own -

now you're no more than a skeleton
of recollection from the broken bones
of memory

now,
I feel the loss of you everywhere

I identify with rainy skies,
broken hearts and
sorrowed cries
loud, noisy sobs that splatter along the walls
of hospitals like paint

my heart aches for everyone
whose heart is aching
whose bones are breaking
who is doing their best at simply making
it through the day

I feel every fake smile,
every forced laugh and
every wiped away tear

all of the world's pains
are named after you, dear.