Two months is too short a time
to recover from the way someone is
scraped out of your heart like
a dull knife in
an almost empty peanut butter jar
but sixty-one days is too long a time
to do nothing but sink in misery
so I'm building
brick by aching brick
and I'm getting back on my feet
bone by throbbing bone
I'm learning not to pick up the pieces
but to wait for new ones
I'm learning not to fill up the void
but to work my way around it
because the healing that time brings
is really only nothing
but anaesthesia, because
the pain will always be there to remind you
that once upon a time,
you loved.