She reads his letter.
It is like he is there.
Nothing could feel better.
But the room is bare.

His voice takes over.
The pain is still there.
The scars will never heal.
The tears will never dry.

The room fills with his smell.
Her mind fills with memories.
Of the time she was happy.
When he was still hers.

She reads his letter.
It is like he is there.
Nothing could feel better.
But the room is bare.

She sits alone.
Her body is numb.
Her family doesn’t worry.
They all have a theory.

She just needs time.
Then she will be fine.
She will come around.
She will get over it.

She reads his letter.
It is like he is there.
Nothing could feel better.
But the room is bare.

She feels like there is no air.
It is like he is still there.
She longs to be in his arms again.
The warmth of his body.

But she knows that can’t be.
She is sad and alone.
He is happy and in love.
He is happier with her.

She reads his letter.
It is like he is there.
Nothing could feel better.
But the room is bare.

She has tired to let go.
Throw away his letter.
So many times.
But he still comes back.

She wishes it was easier.
Her heart is mangled and torn.
She will never forget him.
But most of all she will never forget the pain.