There’s this silent ache
A hollow, empty, void
Of nothingness,
Desiring her fill
Of someday promised
Reprieve
From want, tears, lack
Regrets, sorrow.
Though silent,
Its echo is louder than
Any Homecoming drumline,
Yet as unassuming as
A predator among prey.
Ache tramples my insides raw,
Ravenous in its
Foot patrol pursuit
Of
Me.
Have I become
The doppelganger
Of Ache
Or has it
Finally
Singed away
All hope?