Me and my journal

You know those moments when you can't string together a sentence.
The flowing tears hold your lips together
and the lump in your throat sews the thread to prevent you from retching up your broken heart.
I cannot articulate how you made me feel
nor can I forget.
Yet when I stroke my pen on the listening pages
paper thin layered with empathy
temporarily replacing the hole you penetrated in my chest
until the next time we meet
This is poetry.