My chest

Missing you,
turns my chest.
I’m such a mess.
Being here, without you,
I forget my voice.
Every memory, is only wishful thinking.
I wish I had you, in my chest.

Reviews

[Jacob Clifford]

Very good description of how it feels to long. Those special people complete us, and their absence makes us wonder how we ever got along without them. I can always appreciate a poem that gets to the point, and what a well-penned point it is.