I cannot think of a way to start
writing what I need to say, (t)here
are too many thoughts rushing
around what some might call
a brain, a heart. My mind, my
core, has been replaced by what
some may call an
abyss, a void, but I cannot be
so poetic about what I only see
as emptiness. I suppose
I was always something
of an empty girl, never learning
to be enough for myself, a hollow
shell. You all filled up
that shell, my life, you slowly teach
me to be enough for myself
by showing me that maybe
I am enough for you. You
complete me. Right now the clock ticks
closer to midnight, though, and you
are not here. Call it
abyss, call it void, call
it emptiness, if you so wish. I
call it by its true name, I
call out to the moon in
my desperation, I call
at the walls and the world
and the all-too empty air. I call this feeling
missing you.