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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2174870
Grief is fluid thing. At least it has been for me. It's different every day.
The space left by your leaving
grows daily.
Each morning I look at your favourite perfume on the cabinet.
I wear it more often now.

For a long time
all I felt was numb.
In acceptance
life went on.
The empty space was there.
Unacknowledged.

I don't know what has changed.
but each day now I think of you more.
I hear your voice
still guiding me,
still loving me,
still relying on me.

And the space left by your leaving
continues to grow.

Mum,
I miss you more each day.

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