Nothing.

You’re like my very own

version of writers block.

A thousand times a day

my heart breaks leaving

behind a tiny trail of tears

unspoken. They say you

reach a point of grieving,

acceptance of differences.

Some days I refuse, I will

not grieve what I can change.

Then the fear consumes you,

the panic becomes you,

the uncertainty is you and as

I hold your sobbing heart

I break.

Karen Hayward ©2016

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