Counting down the days and ways that I have missed you.
The moments that we haven't shared.
The times I know that I was scared
but to others it looked like anger.
To others it looked like idiocy,
like flippant avoidance of serious thought.
The objects and experiences I bought
after you bought the farm.
It took years
and it's only now,
drowning in the hourglass
that I realise how much time has passed.
And how much
I have left.
