They are filling the hole
With concrete and steel
While the hole in our heart
Remains an open sore.
Though the years have passed
We still mourn our loss:
In bathrooms with showers blasting;
In cars
with locked doors,
Windows closed to hide our screams.
The pain of that old amputation remains too much to bear.
Gone, vanished, you are a gaping chasm.
Like an organ removed from our body.
Never to be replaced,
A
painful void,
A dark hole oozing our pain.
There is no returning,
There is no turning back time
And time doesn’t heal all wounds
At
least not this one
That has now become a putrid sore.
Standing on the edge of forever
Waiting for your return
We bandage that wound
With a dressing
That
burns like Tabasco sauce on our tongue.
(c)2010 Leona M Seufert
