After love

Where do I go from here,
when the love still stands
alive, beating-heart and not wanting
to die.
Days filled with a half-life,
a mixture of finality and despair,
of hope and joy, but always
knowing that she is gone.

Day in and day-out catching a vague
scent of her fragrance, always driving me
helpless, reminding me of how in love
I am.

Even in my mind her smile catches me off
balance, leaving me dancing alone with
the ghost of what could have been,
what should have been.

The tears continue to fall with
all the rainy nights, with all the
lonely nights
I wish she were here, I pray she were here.