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The ache of my mother’s death echoes this new loss of love.
Strings of hurts entwine like a knotted necklace.
Without patience, I try to fling the hurts
away.
Impossible.
I will not be who I am not.
Life demands my happiness.
even when I throb within the void acknowledging the hole
left behind
even when I sob within the void
even when I …
Time marches onward making the void bigger and smaller.
I am lucky, love is beside me always.
With love I am able to conquer fear.
With love I am able to soothe my soul.
With love, I will find what I need.
and I miss those who came and had to leave
Copyright 2016 Heather L. Corwin, Ph.D.