You gave me a piece of yours.
We see each other but seldom
As the miles sprawl between us.
I don’t have you.
What I have are
The memories,
The pictures,
The stories
That I tell about us,
And the ones I keep locked
in my heart.
These things I have
Once brought me joy.
They comforted me
When I was lonely.
They dried my tears.
But when I gave you a piece of my heart,
And you a piece of yours,
Those pieces traveled far away
With each of us.
We treasure the others' piece dearly,
But these pieces are estranged,
Creating a hole in each our hearts.
This hole was once easily filled
By a phone call,
Or a memory,
Or a picture.
But as you take more and more of my heart,
And I more and more of yours,
Those remnants can no longer fill
The growing hole in my heart.
The remnants are now reminders,
Showing me what of the hole
They can no longer fill.
And I ache.
I ache, and sometimes
I cry.
I don’t have you.
What I have are
The memories,
The pictures,
The stories
That I tell about us,
And the ones I keep locked,
And a hole in my heart.