Yearning.
I’m starting to miss pieces I’d thought buried neatly
I’m jonesing in my bones for things that used to be attained discreetly.
Missing.
It’s the sudden realization of a void like a dark nebular cloud where light used to be
Seeing right through the heart of me and realizing light is missing.
Mourning
For the realization of what others won’t have and what I may never have again,
Like it used to be.
Grieving…
For the best laid plans that’ll never come to fruition.
Heaving through the realization of the passage of time for the people we’ve lost
As months stretch into years
And we have to wear a mask to keep breathing.
Missing.
The time, the touch, the missed plans, the privilege of missing someone…whatever it is, after all this. If you come out through it you’ll still live with the sense that —
Something is missed.