The weight of living

leaves me broken

waiting for you,

like a stump in the soil.
I long for the love we had,

but if I stay here any longer,

I’ll hollow out and rot.
I’m done.
Not for lack of love
God,
I’ll love you to the end.
But I miss living.

And I’m sorry.
I just want to feel alive again,

even if that means
it’s without you.