I.
I didn’t know what it meant to ache
Before you
Not just a body ache
A soul ache too
I learned aching is more than something you do when the world hurts.
It’s finding a place you love for the first time
Then leaving
I ache and I just figured out I was missing a piece of me
They are the same
I loved you before I was supposed to
Too fast was the answer to a question I never asked
I’m not supposed to love you like this
Too late,
for an ache that touches you so deep, you can’t remember what before felt,
Paralysis, that wakes you in the middle of the night breathless, unable to move, but you can still feel it in every cell
I ache
II.
If I tried to describe the difference
between before you and now
I’d say that I don’t just ache the way people do when they see that special person across the room
I ache like I imagine a tree feels when the wind doesn’t kiss its bare skin
Or the earth when it can’t bathe in the light of the moon
Like the bees must when they let their honey loose
I can’t concentrate with you in or out the room
I ache like I imagine flowers do when the sun leaves too soon
Or a beach does to feel the soft caress of the sea
I learned that aching is more than something you do when the world hurts.
It’s what you do to me.
III.
I keep telling it not to,
but when you aren’t here
but when you aren’t here
my soul looks for you.
therecoverypoet.com 