There are days I feel empty.

When nothing fills the hollow,

Erases the longing,

Or soothes the dull ache.

It doesn’t last as long.

Or feel as acute as it did.

But it still hurts.

Feels very surreal.

It hangs on my heart like a weight.

Before it melts away.

It’s grief reminding me,

I still love my child,

Who died by suicide.