Monday, August 15, 2011


When you were there,
it was a time of two
and one.
In a sunny house
up on a hill.
So your mum,
called us Jack and Jill.
Which was simply,
how it was.
The tumbling down
was quick and shocking.

The empty socket
where you fitted
gaping, gutted, gone.
So much space
that I had doubts
about going on.
And in a sense I didn't,
that was some, numb
other who marked the days.
Who still drifts
around the wreck.
Too scared to say
it's unfair
that you're not there.
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