When You’re Ready, Please Come Home
True love is missing someone even when they’re with you
I am glad for your body
On your side of the bed,
At the table for breakfast,
On the couch next to me,
In the passenger seat on our work commutes.
But part of you is still up on that hill
Where we laid your mother to rest
In a steel box
In a concrete vault
In a dirt hole,
So I don’t have all of you home.
I went looking for some part of you
In that now-empty apartment where she lived,
But my voice could not bring you back
From the alleyways of memory you have wandered down.
When I find you wandering lost,
Wrapped in your dead mother’s shawl,
Crying from the loss and pain,
Can you even hear me calling you?
If I thought that I could find the rest of you,
I would climb that hill and dig with my hands
To that dirt hole
To that concrete vault
To that steel box
And bring you home.
I miss you so.
