He is the Poem

Still

I still wait for your name to appear,
to see your message, feel you near.
Though your interest has waned, I know,
your feelings faded, letting go.

Yet here I am, still holding tight,
wounding myself each lonely night.
Imagining your return, a bittersweet dream,
into my arms, where love would gleam.

I ache with these illusions,
clutching to fantasies, love's contusions.
Each night I hold our little one so close,
feeling the ache, the love, the loss.

It's agonizing, this silent plea,
as I wait, longing to see.
But in any universe, near or far,
I'll love you still, no matter where you are.