Reaching

When I wake up, I reach for you,

and you are not there.

My heart drops to my stomach.

My lungs gasp for air.

I feel lost and aimless,

can't find direction.

I feel alone and afraid,

and long for connection.

My chest is replaced

by a hollow tomb,

filled with darkness

that crawls and consumes.

I try but I cannot

fight back the tears.

But the cries silent

nobody hears.

Tormented by feelings,

from regret to disdain;

they're out for vengeance,

they bring on the pain.

The guilt's overwhelming.

I did bad. I did wrong. messed up.

But the shame is unbearable.

I am bad. I am wrong. will never be enough.

It's too much to take, so I reach for you

and you're still not there.

I am bolted awake by reality,

and this tragedy of care.

I tell myself

I know are not true.

have nothing, I feel nothing,

I am nothing, without you.

go to reach for you again,

but I remember you are .

I resist the urge.

this is moving on.

I struggle out of bed,

for I am heavier without you.

I go about my day,

and pause when I'm about to

reach for you again.

It still happens now and then.

But I'm hoping soon I'll reach,

and find myself instead.