The Great, Aching Hole In My Heart

My bunny just died. I may not have bourne him, but I loved him as though I did.

The Great, Aching Hole In My Heart Where He Used To Be

The life drains from my fingers as it did from his heart
Tears fill with wordless pain, like rains dreching my emptied soul
My heart, stuck, bleeds accordingly
as true mourning, more powerful than I had imagined
sets into it with dirty, poisoned claws
The talons rip my flesh away and I cannot care
And I dare not weep, for fear that to give way to this emotion
would invite its overpowering
Dread as I ride on the wings of my personal hell
to fate yet undecided
Fear that to enjoy my life
would serve only to diminish his
light
from the world I know
Souls once joined; now worlds apart