I know you stopped being yourself
Since we broke apart
And deconstructed
Our previous notions.
The return to the well of pain
Was foreseen
And expected.
How dark have been the nights
I’ve spent away
From myself in you.
The hours have gathered in the corners,
Talking about the absence of your voice
To fill them with reason
And direction.
The spaces,
Convoluted in themselves,
Started to fold in on one another
In an attempt to shorten our distance(s).
Where you are,
And where I am,
Nobody knows.
©Barbara Lima 2021
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