Life on the line

Even on my busiest days, I miss you as if my life depends on it.

In a way, it really does.

For if I did not miss you, I would have absolutely nothing sentimental to hold on to.

And we both know I was never materialistic.

I was only ever hungry for words—

the beautiful ones, sad ones, ugly ones, kind ones.

Most of all, real ones.

And you fed me well, with truth and honesty.

Now that you're gone, I find myself stranded in a world that does not know such concepts, and I starve as I miss you.

After all, my life depends on it.

...

I. L.

@Iviwrites