A poem for the people who used to be my everything

I stopped writing poems-

Why'd I stop writing?

Does it scare me that I'll still miss who I was

When you held me close to your heart?

I have never been more content, more happy,

Yet something stirs inside me-

Begging me to ask you how you are.

Has life been treating you well?

Do you miss me?

Does the unfamiliarity of who you are without me

Scare you like it scares me?

I will never be entire without you,

Always missing the pieces

Of me you stole and kept in your back pocket.

I am not allowed to miss you,

Cannot let myself need you-

The way I have for so long.

I must let other hands fill the places

You left empty and loveless.

I hope you are well.

I hope you are happy.

And when you are lonely,

I hope you remember the smile you planted,

New joys and pains have

filled the place it once occupied.

Slowly I will become whole again,

And one day I can boast of how

I survived the end

of the only world I ever knew.