I'm always late now
I was never late before
When you were here
But now there is so much danger
In idle moments
I can't be left alone
With my memories
So I try to fill every minute
With something else
Anything else
I'm so tired of trying to stuff my mind
With random things
So that I can go on with life
Without you
But perhaps someday I'll learn
That the only thing worse
Than the pain of missing you
Is constantly trying to avoid it
I like how the poem unfolds and follows a train of thought to some possible resolution of her feelings of loss.
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