Come.
Sit in the space you left behind.
I have carried the weight of your absence so long it has its own pulse.
Let it press against you, slow and steady, like a reminder that I never learned how to forget a living body.
Slip into the hollow of me where memory keeps its hands warm.
Where wanting is not soft or poetic, just a steady burn that eats through the hours.
Where every thought turns into the shape of you, then ruins itself trying to stay.
Touch the ache.
It’s the only part of me that still tells the truth.
To reach it, you don’t climb; you sink.
You peel back the days I tried to move on, the nights I failed, the quiet that never held.
I miss you in ways that don’t sound sane...
But I thought nothing was impossible..
Yet you are the forbidden...
In ways that split the mind from the mouth, the breath from the body.
Come.....
Not to cure anything... just to let the pain finally know the one it keeps calling for...
An1, 2025
