It's weird how it hurts when I see your picture, even now after all these years.
It's the feeling I get when I'm falling, or when I'm nervous, or when I've forgotten that last step. And it's mixed with a twinge of pain, loss, despair.
And all I can think of is that I'll never be able to hold you again. And you'll never see me smile again.
Staring at a picture of you, and having your ashes in a box... it's just not the same. Not at all. Not one teeny, tiny bit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment