nowadays my arms seem so small,
for they cannot reach you anymore.
my legs, in tandem, feel short and stubby,
for I cannot seem to run far enough to stay away from you.
what have I become?
am I so diminished, in your absence,
that my very body betrays its own size?
my mouth feels minuscule,
and the feeble cries it makes, never enough to
reach your ears.
my eyes, ever smaller, can't seem to take in
my surroundings, now only able to
focus on the places you're not.
what have I become?
that now the only thing of any significant size
I have left is the hole you carved on me.
