ya'aburnee

I don't know how to find you in all this noise. You are lost to me in some unknowable place, somewhere in this chaotic universe, that vestigial string to our souls that I used to tug disconnected and floating aimlessly,   a reminder of a thing no longer needed. I try to reach you but our mind connection is broken, yet I call and call, my voice adrift in time and space. 

I have accepted your loss like a death, every day a death when I wake and I can't tell you how much you are loved, how much I want you here. I mourn your absence and the parts of me ripped open in its wake. The drugs bring oblivion, unconsciousness, but always I will wake and remember the way it felt to hear your voice telling me that you loved me and always, there will be no substitute. 

Perhaps once I prayed for a redemption arc but find none in the dens of wolves where I find myself again and again. Here, I watch the sunlight filter through the layers of filth on the windowpane and fall pale and muted on a carpet full of cigarette burns and unknown stains. It is nearly spring but there are no dreams of meadows or forests glades here. There is only this: dirty fingernails, dirty hair, half-closed eyes, half-slurred words, bruises of varying colors like fruit left out to rot but no recollection of how they came to appear on your skin, minutes and hours that slide by in beds that are never your own.