When You’re Ready, Please Come Home

True love is missing someone even when they’re with you

I am glad for your body
 On your side of the bed,
 At the table for breakfast,
 On the couch next to me,
 In the passenger seat on our work commutes.

But part of you is still up on that hill
Where we laid your mother to rest
 In a steel box 
 In a concrete vault 
 In a dirt hole,
So I don’t have all of you home.

I went looking for some part of you
In that now-empty apartment where she lived,
But my voice could not bring you back
From the alleyways of memory you have wandered down.

When I find you wandering lost,
Wrapped in your dead mother’s shawl,
Crying from the loss and pain,
Can you even hear me calling you?

If I thought that I could find the rest of you,
I would climb that hill and dig with my hands
 To that dirt hole
 To that concrete vault
 To that steel box
And bring you home.

I miss you so.

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