the grief lingering with the loss of a guide,

the one you always turned towards,

the first to hear about anything and everything 

is a stab in the chest 

for every thought drives the knife deeper

and deeper

and deeper. 

you feel shut off, 

left alone,

forever discarded. 

you lack feelings, 

you lack emotions,

living numb. 

you desperately cling to the mere deception,

to convince yourself that time will rewind,

convincing yourself of their deceiving perfection,

despite the resurging pain of letting them back, time and time again.

you long for someone to listen,

a shoulder to cry on,

a person who would pretend to care,

whether it was a facade or not. 

you think you miss them, 

you think you need them,

but deep down, you know you’re attached to a figment of your imagination,

the potential they never had.