Three months have passed and it is not getting any easier.
I sit here wanting to write, knowing no matter what I type, words will fall short.
I was told time is a healer, but they lied, there’s still a void within.
That last look, you made it clear.
I failed to read between the lines.
During our last phone call, you told me, “Sena, I’m going to go.”
“Where?” I asked, like a naïve child.
You often spoke about the physical being a temporary entity, even though I am well aware of this fact, I became very attached to you. Maybe it was your positive radiance and faith or the overflowing love which you gave to me.
I miss holding your aged hands, I miss hugging you, I miss your kisses. I miss your beautiful natural fragrance, Nan.
When will these tears come to an end? When will they come to an end?
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