Loss

Few things reach 100% success, especially in matters of the soul.

But such was your embrace.

Healing it was. With the ability to sew shut lacerations forged by fear every time.

It filled the void inside me.

Had I known yesterday’s embrace would be our last, I’d have held on till eternity.

I’d have bound myself to you and let the magic of us carry me forever.

Now you’re gone.

Deep slits are spilling my soul, which is reaching for you.

The void widens, creating a chasm inside me.

I’ve no magic. No titanium needle and thread to stitch myself together.

My soul is incomplete. Neither 100% with me nor you.

It wanders, searching for the embrace that will mend me.

But it’s gone.

I must mend myself. Again.