And some days are better then others.
Most days its a dull ache,
In the pit of my chest.
But someday, it's a typhoon.
Of sadness that washes over me.
And I gasp for air in the suddenness of it.
Coming out the other side drenched
In despair, choking of saltwater.
Most days you being gone has become
The norm.
And other days,
The realization of the "norm"
Slaps me so hard across the face
I'm left reeling from the pain.
Spinning from the sharp jarring,
Of the realization that my days
For nearly 2 years have started
Without you.
But always this emptiness persists.
Some days I can by without drowning.
Other days,
It feels like I'm drowning forever.