Like Goldie Locks I search I try to find the piece that's missing,
this one's too tall, that one too thin, this one too fat
will I ever again find one that seems just right?
for now I am surviving, just missing a piece it's not just one
though it many, a collection of pieces.
I miss so much and feel empty so often.
the weight of your arm draped round in the night, messages of
silliness just to induce a smile in a bum day,
the scent after you shower; steam, evergreen, a something that was
purely you.
I continue my search and do not lose hope that one day I will feel
whole with a new weight holding fast and a new scent to find comfort in.
H.
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