Your Picture

The picture of you
Held close
I can almost
Feel you
At my fingertips
But you're not there
Drops of pain
Fall from me
Begging my heart
To remove itself
From me
Yet I cannot stop
Seeing your face
Permanently stains
In my blood
Invading me
I weep
I scratch my skin
Hoping to peel
The layers of you
From me
To free my soul
The picture of you
Still hurts
As I remember
Our more happy days
I digress
Nobody know this
But me
I smile in agony
I breathe out of habit
But I'm empty
As I sit
Gazing
at your picture

Deborah R. Shaw
The Silent Stalker