Sometimes I hunger for pain -
it's better than feeling
          e m p t y.
Floating away while desperately
trying to cling onto what's left.

Air slips through my fingers
and it smells of you
-- the musk of your past,
because I'm not ready to
leave you behind.

Yet you're soaring away
-- wings beating steadily.
And soon you'll be a
speck in the sky.

I'm forever grounded
-- you planted me,
never bothered to water me
and left me here to wither
                                                    
                      *-lf-