missing.
the child on the back of that milk carton isn't the only thing.

empty.
and not just the chair across from me.

silent.
i don't mean the 4am air.

there's something, someone, anything.
that's missing from my life.
meaning, feeling, inspiration.
who knows exactly what.

all i know is every morning i wake up, my heart feels like the tomb must have that first so called easter morning.