"A Ripped Memory" (Entry 464)

A hazy day amongst the grey

Reminds me of that rip

Half a life ago

When you were taken away. 

"Empty Space" (Entry 462)

Where have you been?

Where do you go?

Missed from my life. 

Where? I didn't know. 

An empty place 

To my right. 

It felt all wrong. 

Alone in the night.

But now you're back. 

Where you should be. 

So 'fraid. I'll never ask. 

Trapped by my absentee. 

"Precious Thing" (Entry 399)

It was most precious thing. 

The thing I liked to keep near,

Or at least know where it was at all times. 

To see, to hold,

Or even be in the same room, 

I felt safe. 

I knew I was home. 

Then one day, I lost my thing. 

Unable to search,

As I knew it was gone forever,

Never to return. 

My heart broke, in that moment,

Never to be mended. 

There's always a chunk missing, a hole left, my precious lost thing. 

My precious lost mother. 

My most important possession. 

(If a person can belong to another. 

I think they can, when hearts are open, when they give so much... mean so much... are so much to each other.)

My mum. 

I lost her when she died. 

I love her love, her laughter, her strength, her friendship, her scent, her protection, her hugs. 

The most precious thing in my world is lost.

**********

Almost 22 years without you. 

Today is your birthday. 

I will miss you always. 

Remember you always. 

Love you forever. 

"They Travel With Me" (Entry 384)

I sense the spirits on those long passed. 

As I tread my dusty path. 

I do not know where this leads. 

To tangled dells or shimmering seas. 

I know that those I've known, walk with me. 

Though I do not hear them, and never see. 

For those I've loved will never leave. 

They live within my heart and I still grieve. 

I miss their presence, touch and voice. 

Although I will cry. The more, I rejoice. 

As love that strong a bond will never break. 

They are always with me on this journey I make. 

So I step forward with strength so grand. 

They travel with me, in heart, by hand. 

"Life in Letters" (Entry 286)

Letters found
in an attic.
Written by hand unknown.
A century ago.
To fresh-faced feline-graced
belle.
A maiden fare,
who would flush a cheek
at the chaste kisses
The brazen beau seeks.
And yet,
months and time go on
and kisses turn to caresses.
Embolden by replies
and flitted flirting flick of an inky rise.
The courting "if I may"
turns to a fiancée's "I would like"
and on to a solider husband's saucy "I will take."
Then gone,
Letters stop.
As war wins this game.