the name of
the heaviness in my gut,
tightness of chest,
heart with too little
blood to pump,
too thick with grief
to reach
the tips of my fingers?
What can I call
the ache,
the hollow
that cannot be filled,
the falling apart
when you are too far
to pull me together?
What unfathomable magic,
to paint the sorrow
into neat letters,
to spell out
loneliness
and confine it
to the page.
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