This is me,
with my love and fear of the quiet
that's pressing in on me,
watching as my brain drowns in my consciousness.
There's no more fire in me these days,
and it's effect, or lack of effect is catastrophic.
I'm not heart broken, more heart missing,
with my own two feet planted simultaneously
on the ground and clouds.
This chair, this empty chair where you belong,
right in front of me once again, I miss you.
So walk past, and nod.
"I want to know your plans,
and how involved in them I am."
