Titles are Overrated

Part 70

I dread the day

you will leave.

Often 

I think about it.

Even though

you are not leaving -

not yet.

What am I to do?

Who will sit with me

in silence,

or in the dark?

Who else

will keep me on my toes,

but keep me standing? 

There's no other

I'd rather laugh

at our pain with -

perhaps even others.

You're the only one

who I'm closest to -

without too many words.

Your presence 

makes me breathe

a little easier,

laugh a little louder

and smile a little more. 

All those draining hours feel too short.

God,

how bad 

will it be

when you're gone? 

don't want to be dead and buried