emotions

You are dead, but your soul has never left.
I do not see you, but I feel you- the you that engulfs my breath; I feel like I am dying.
I could walk past every street, listen to every song and they all spell your name.
I hate the letters you send every spring, summer, autumn and winter-
they make me chase after an invisible you, but yet present feeling.
When will the last letter come? the one that tells me to move ahead?
P.S. I love you.-
How can I read this in every letter but only to realise that you are dead?
I often laugh at how absurd it is to be drowned in love; but yet I am confounded by the stupid me who speaks of and recalls endlessly, the obscure you.
My quiescent mind numbs my breathlessness, but my bounded body struggles to fly away.

hahaha! how funny.