It breaks my heart.

You thought you would come home that day.

You thought you would come home.

Sleep in your bed. Cook dinner.

Take off your clothes, wear something comfortable.

Sleep, not die, sleep, how could you not come home?

 

I walked in my shoes in your shoes,

Walked the path, your last one, flesh and bone,

With my legs, with my feet, a day too late,

You were still there, along that way, headed

That way, again and again, in your mind,

Muscle, the heart, we couldn’t be a part of it,

You sought the light, we navigate its darkness.

 

Your bed was waiting for you,

Your toothbrush, the cat and the pillows,

Your drawer with your food in it,

Your skin products, the packages that kept arriving,

What did you leave behind, all of us, shattered,

I understand, you couldn’t consider that,

I understand, but you broke my heart

And love will persist no matter what.

yellow sunflower in bloom
Photo by Tim Fuzail on Pexels.com

3 Replies to “Angel Numbers: A Poem”

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