It's Not Any Different-Letters Written, Not Meaning To Send. Poem by raquel stevenson

I awoke this morning and felt a hole.
The familiar hole I have felt for years,
Decades.
Everytime I have to let you go away,
Everytime I feel a piece of me lost.
No different than Idyllwild or Ventura.
No different than when I got on that plane.
The tears they fall the same.
Nearly 30 years from the beginning.
That part of me is too large,
When I try to leave that behind,
I seem to lose myself.
Maybe, I have to stop fighting.
Time after time, I have tried to move on,
Forward.
I have only been upside down
And, ended up going the wrong way.
So I love you big enough to be happy for you,
Tho there occasionally are tears for your absence.
It lives as a tree intertwined with a fence,
Can not remove one without destroying both.
I will go on in life, as will you.
Tho, I am done forseing myself to let you go.