When You're Not Here

And sometimes, when you're not here,
I trade a poem for a pen.
I draw a picture of a heart.
I imagine your face and I -
I think how it would start.

The story of our lives
together,
of our destinies conjoined
forever.

Sometimes when I sit alone,
and the room around grows dim,
it scares me not, I feel alive -
your memory still deep inside.