I’m almost numb sometimes.
So banal and standard
I could almost breathe or revive
but then I remain unmoved.
The world is just the lack of you.

The sun shines anew
or a gift presents
but then again I find
no way to give you all the treasures
of my days or nights.
And your absence eclipses
all my petty pains
or hard work stains.

Laughter and tears
have lost all import.
They come and go as freely
as a ship to port.
I slip between them
through these empty days;
put on a living face.

This makes the people sigh in relief
but I could just as easily
scream to the clouds, cut down a tree
or be still and vacant as a windless sea.
empty motions
pointless acts

My world was for your pleasure
and to love you was the joy
of my heart.
I can’t help but think
it won’t be much longer
till I join you in the dark.