The Hole

the hole is still there in my heart like a cannonball shot through and left only enough heart for me to survive to live how can a hole be so very heavy? difficult to hold difficult to carry through a day or a week, a month, a year to live today, this hole has been part of me for two long years two blurry years edges healed a bit edges healing still to live but still the hole remains i dress with it eat with it, sleep with it i hate the hole, but it's the only part of him that remains Rest in Peace, my Love.

©2012 Tiffany Reed