The days are the worse.
each minute
hardly passing by
slow agony
the clock, my enemy
I am the hanged man
****** stumps
limbs that have become
tree trunks
planted in this bed
eyes boring holes
in the wall
where your picture hangs
loneliness
broken legs that cannot move
unable to flee or fight
just lay in the days dirt
throughout the night.

nights. my only reprieve
waiting, hoping for sleep
to come and capture me
to sleep and dream of us
holding hands in the park
watching the children play
happy again if only
for a moment
you kiss me and I smile
into the beauty that is you
the sun that you are
warming me
is really all
I could ever need.

The day comes again
like a monster
devouring my life
the one
we were supposed to have
should have had
before you disappeared
I lie in this bed
that has become a tomb
covered by the rubble
of what once was.
no sunshine
no laughter
endless time, now spent
without what you said
would be our endless love.