I cannot believe you are gone.
You can’t be gone.
Keeper of my thoughts. My fears and my judgements. My adolescence and it’s traumas, my first boyfriend through my husband.
Caretaker of my soul. My darkest moments - an abyss of fear.
Calling to wish me a happy new year each fall just because. A text to say you’re thinking of me. A reference to my mother in therapy - stiff and unwilling - a well of empathy enough to fulfilll my insatiable needs.
You know more about me than I ever will. Where does it go? Did you take it with you?
A collection of memories cannot sustain me.
I love you. Thank you.
A self cleaning oven. The endless wishes of the well.