Phantom

I am suffering from phantom limb syndrome, but I appear completely whole. The part that I'm missing, is a part of my soul. I feel you as a twitch in the tips of my fingers, beckoning to be touched. I see you in empty meadows, carpeted in buttercups. Only you're not there. I hear your name whispering on the wind, an echo of your former self. But you're not there. You were taken from me like the cruel tide captures the shore. Stolen before my eyes. Before I even got the chance to utter a final goodbye. Late at night as I drift to sleep, I swear I can hear you breathing. But as my eyelids flutter open, you've disappeared, like a shadow consumed by the night's intense gaze. I look for you in everything I see, in the bottom of empty swimming pools and in the broken down carcasses of warehouses. Only you're not there, you're not there.