Work keeps my mind occupied. Holding back tears cried in the night.

Early evening then requires the facade of functionality-

…prepare the food.

…wipe down the counters

….dance to the tune of a lonely reality.

I could phone a friend,

Or fall off the wagon and drink a pint.

Better yet, paint the town red and white,

or even blue…

Anything to forget,

My heart remains a permanent shade of you.

Each day begins with the hope that I might heal, yet before the sun goes down I replay the sound of your voice,

And remember the playful look in your eyes…

Once more frozen–

Grief’s grip on my broken heart,

Drowning in love’s tortuous lies.