Has my love left me?
Moved on to more promising people?
Found a new love to hold her hand?
I feel so alone,
Another day done by,
Without the percence of my love,
Without her arms wrapped around me,
Anchoring me down to the Earth.
Am I lost?
Have I really been left behind?
An old toy a toddler grew out of?
Is that all I have become?
My love, my talent, my writing,
It is all I have, my meaning to stay.
And now I ask you, my love,
Have you left me?
My poems have become stale,
Old work sitting around,
Cursing me for their half-creation.
My stories, those of another land,
Sit in waiting, wondering,
“Will she ever find her way back to me?”
I pray for rest to help me back up,
For this rock bottom is quite cold.
I need support, I need it now,
For my love, my writing, it is my life,
And without its strong pull,
I will surely float away into deep space,
No gravity to bring me home.
