Titles are Overrated

Part 9

It's strange to think

that you're no longer here,

it makes my heart sink

and I can no longer bear.

Sometimes I think I feel your touch,

a cool stroke of air;

not much

but enough to dull the never ending ache of despair. 

Even so I cry,

toss and turn in my sleep.

You shouldn't have died -

the cuts shouldn't be this deep.

Until then I'll stitch them again and again,

and perhaps one day I'll be free from this pain. 

time doesn't heal