there is a space where you used to be


I see it on grey station platforms

and in shuffling supermarket aisles


strange how it is never occupied

despite the throng


I feel it during countryside walks

my forlorn hand abandoned

constantly surprised to find yours

not there


a voice      lost like me      asks why

not why you are not here

but why am I

why do I bother to make that journey

or go to work

or read this book


they say all stories have two sides


if that is true

then I am living half a life

staring at the spaces you once filled