I've gotten really good at missing people.
I keep the masterpiece of them painted on the inside my eyelids, and they barely ever drip down as tears. I tuck the manuscript of them just under my skin, and they barely ever break through as goosebumps.
I isolate myself with the reasons I love them, and they keep me warm. I light myself with the reasons they loved me, and it keeps me bright.
I've gotten really good at missing people.
Posted in grief and tagged anniversaries of deaths, AprilCheerPepper, grief, missing pieces. Bookmark the permalink.
