My conscience falls victim to a mental war.
It collapsed deciding which was easiest,
to accept I’ve drawn life’s shortest straw
or keep pretending like you didn’t exist.

Your words taunt me, ‘Find fulfilment once I leave’,
but you left me with no other choice.
I’m lost in a void so deep you wouldn’t believe,
its walls echo the curative sound of your voice.

These days I tread carefully on broken glass,
for one second too long in thought of you will drive
my mind to depths even hell fails to surpass
my subconscious waits for you to arrive.

A mother marks a loving home, safety in a world like this,
but how do we miss a loving home if there is no loving home to miss?