I was sad again last night, but not the usual kind of sad. This time a direful longing seeped in, replacing the bitter melancholy that makes my cranium its home. All I wanted was for you to fill the cold, settled sheets on the other side of the bed, to be there when I reached out, to be able to sing myself to sleep with the rise and fall of your lungs.
It was as if my heart was spilling out of my body and onto the floor before me. The sadness poured out of me in every way possible, and there was never to be a cure because you were not
there.
Too far, are you now, to rescue me from this dreadful ache.
The ache that extends out of my fingers
and into my pen as I write this.
The ache that keeps me up at night,
and disappoints me every morning.
The ache that makes every coffee too bitter
and too weak
because the only thing that makes me feel alive anymore
is you.
I miss you.
I miss you.
Please come back soon.

- k.m.