Life 

In the pasting 

Time is marked 

Cycle of the trees

Budding life,

Green 

spectrum of yellow and red 

And to the roots 

you start again

Empty spaces between

It was not until you

I noticed 

I am empty 

These spaces have always been 

hollow 

My hand aches

someone to fill her creases 

Why do I ache 

It has been this way 

Five fingers, four creases 

no longer complete 

The curves of an hourglass 

A lone 

Puzzle piece that has been lost 

And it was not until 

I open the box 

That I noticed 

It was missing 

One beating heart 

empty space 

filled by a lock

You held the key 

I did not notice I was 

Empty