The Death of Me

I miss him terribly.
I cannot stand to be without him.
If I am not with him-
I want to be.
If I don't hear his voice-
I feel alone.
If I can't feel his touch-
I want to scream.

He can outshine the sun,
Yet still be meaner than the fiercest storm.

His laugh is music to my ears,
And so is the sound of his yelling.

I love him so much and wonder if I could ever be without (him).
Could I survive if he were to go?
I think not.
I should surely parish.

Yet could he go on if I did not?
I still wonder on that question and shall probably never know the true answer.

I fell as if it will never be,
As if it never could.
Like a path not meant to be walked,
Or a story not meant to be told.

I am not meant to hold his hand.
Not meant to hear his laugh,
Or see his smile.

And I am going to parish.
Of that, I am certain.