If you were here I’d ask you
all the things I’ve never known;
your favourite smells,
your secret fears,
if you ever felt alone.

If you were here I’d listen
as you taught me right from wrong;
to try my best,
do things I love,
that their doubts will make me strong.

If you were here you would’ve seen
all the moments that you’ve missed;
watched me turn 18,
watched him graduate,
met the first boy I ever kissed.

If you were here I might not be
so cynical and wry;
I’d smile more,
I’d have less scars,
wouldn’t fear they, too, will die.

These eyes have never seen your smile.
They have never sat and watched you iron, or rest your eyes. 
Nor have they cried for you, when it felt like
that was all they would ever do again.

These ears have never heard your soft spoken words.
They have never listened to you sing too loudly, or read a book.
Nor have they heard the sounds of assisted breathing,
of machines feigning life.

This nose has never smelt your hairspray in the bathroom.
These lips have never wished you happy Christmas,
or told you I love you.
Nor has it smelt the chemically-clean air,
as they kissed your cheek goodbye.

This body has never felt the steady beating of your heart.
It has never felt the warmth and comfort of your hugs.
Nor has it felt your swollen hands as you held on to life
and I held on to you.

each part of my body does not know you, 
has never been blessed with your presence.
Now only my heart and mind cling to you as a child to her father. 

Our goodbyes were only ever temporary.

I’m writing to tell you how much I’ve missed you
throughout this past year.
How I’ve grown older, stronger, in some ways harder
whilst wishing you were here.

I hope you know that you’re in my thoughts
with every single breath.
Not a day has gone by without me wishing I could’ve
prevented your death.

And although since the day that you passed away
my life’s fallen apart.
Gradually, the scars will fade from both
my body and my heart.

All that I have achieved in this past year would’ve
made you so happy.
My biggest regret is that you wern’t there to
say that you’re proud of me.

And since you’ve been gone I’ve made choices
and done things I regret.
Though In time the pain will fade
I promise never to forget.

I’m writing to tell you how much I’ve missed you
throughout this past year.
How I’ve grown older, stronger, in some ways harder
whilst wishing you were here.

I am so tired and achy and sick of work. I just wanna crawl into my bed and hibernate, or die. Whichever takes less effort.

Dear me, 6 years & 1 month ago…

I miss the purple jumper
You always used to wear
I miss your suits
Your pointy boots
And the way you’d style your hair.

I miss your sense of humor
And the way you loved to joke
I miss your ties
Your Sonvico-eyes
And the quiet way you spoke.

I miss the way you’d sing to me
When I couldn’t sleep at night
You’d dry my tears
Dispel my fears
And make everything alright.

I wish I could write the words to say how much I love you, and miss you, an need you.

What I want most if all is someone who’ll hold me in the nights when I miss him more than I can explain.
When I can’t do anything but cry.
I want someone who will stay with me when I realise, yet again, that he is never coming home.

One day I’ll have a wedding,
if everything goes to plan,
if I let myself fall in love,
if I find the perfect man.

One day I’ll have a wedding,
with flowers food and wine,
I’ll meet his eyes and fight back tears
as I hold his hands in mine.

One day I’ll have a wedding,
wear a gown of gleaming white,
and with our friends and family
we’ll dance throughout the night.

One day I’ll have a wedding,
and how my  mum will cry
as her baby girl, her youngest child
Bids single life goodbye.

One day I’ll have a wedding,
and throughout the day I’ll smile
though, in my heart, it won’t feel right
‘cause you can’t walk me down the isle. 

Me and mum were talking about you yesterday. Actually we were laughing about how terrible you were with your mobile phone. And your mp3.
We were imagining if you had Facebook what your status’ would be.
And we were laughing, and remembering.
And it was nice.
And I was suddenly hit all over again by the realisation that you’re gone and you aren’t ever coming back.

You built for me a haven
When I was still too young to feel alone
a hide-away amongst the grass,
my very own miniature home.

For years we played inside,
The cottage that you’d made
Forging memories we can’t forget,
Though the wood has long decayed.

You built another house, too,
One so small and yet so grand,
Each match-stick chair, Each goofy trick
You painstakingly planned.

And now it sits, a reminder
Of all you held so dear
embodying your humour,
keeping the memories near.

You built for me a childhood,
Out of books not only toys
You showed me imagination can
be our single greatest joy

You taught to me the value
of kindness, strength and wisdom
made me believe I could do
anything I set my mind upon.