I don’t want the kind of normal
in which you don’t exist.
I don’t want the kind of normal
in which all you’ll be is missed.
Don’t make me wake tomorrow
and accept you’ve truly gone.
Don’t ask of me all the good, right things
when your absence is so wrong.
I will not live in an upside down world
of fragile, brokenΒ glass.
Asking me toΒ put back all the pieces
is just too much to ask.
I don’t want the kind of normal
where I wake and you’re not there.
That kind of normal isn’t normal at all.
This life is so unfair.
