sympathy

I dream about you,
wish that you were here.
Is it too much to ask for some peace?
Surrendering myself to the longing I feel.
The empty pit in my stomach and the grief I feel.
Over bearing the sense to feel the peculiar numbness.
It takes a lot.
There are moments when I know it would be easier to just fall.
To become the heap on the floor.
Knowing that this urge to make my bed on the tile flooring will fade,
I placate my sense of reason and control.
I show my strength through standing.
Yes, that is right, keep telling yourself that.
One more thing to add to the growing pile.
My "deal with" pile is vast.
and procrastination is an ugly habit.
The somber atmosphere sets in.
Death and all the anguish come with it.
My rose coloured glasses are replaced with grey.
It is the clown who cannot smile anymore.
The lack lustre drone.
piece by piece it will come back into view.
Right now, I adjust to the winter haze coming my way.
a wooden box and a still being,
nothing is as it was,
and nothing will ever be the same.