I want you to search June for the last piece of my heart
For I have walked away but I am sick
A part of me is struggling to walk on dry rustled leaves
Because my limbs are slave to your words
And my heart a captive to your summer lies.
You have not said the word
I have not said your voice in the autumn whispers
I long for your skin, like a baby yearns its mother
My stomach hurts badly and my chest burns daily
For sunlight has failed to bring me joy.
The rain is no longer a friend of mine
My garden is withered from lack of water
And April heat failed to bring me showers
Because I sit in the still shadows where you left me
Hoping you return the last piece of me.
I need you to say the word
I next to know you still care
So I can move on to find peace
I need you to tell December her frost is overdue
And you’d like to return to me now.
Author Of Pain Real Poetry 