You haven't come to me
In so long
I wonder
If you truly were
Just a dream.
During these times
Between us,
When my reason
Is strongest,
I'm not certain
If your absence
Is a gift or
A curse, for
When you are here
I am filled with
Joy and pleasure,
But when,
With the cold light
Of day,
You leave me,
I am left with
A broken heart
And aching spirit.
And what of
Those days when
There is light
Without shadow, yet
You are suddenly
There
Just beyond what
I can see?
When I can feel
Your presence, and
Sometimes even
Catch your
Scent?
Are you then
Not real?
Or
Are you,
After all,
A mere illusion,
Perhaps a delusion,
Maybe even a sign
Of psychosis?
Who knows?
Whatever you may prove
To be,
In the end
It does not matter, for
With my heart,
With my mind,
And with my body,
I still miss you.

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay