I stand against the wall, my fingers tracing the cracks,

counting down from ten, my voice a whisper in the dusk.

Behind me, my sisters watch, their eyes wide with disbelief,

as if I've lost my mind, in this game that knows no grief.

"Ten," I start, my voice echoing in the hollow room,

"eight, seven," I continue, feeling the weight of gloom.

They see me as a specter, lost in an endless play,

unknowing that my search for her never fades away.

I step into the quiet streets, my heart a compass lost,

seeking her in every corner, at any humanly cost.

I close my eyes, and she appears, a vision soft and near,

but when I seek her with my sight, she vanishes, and fear

creeps in, "Am I blind?" I murmur, to the silence all around.

There were moments, brief as breath, when I'd catch a glimpse so sweet,

her smile, her eyes, a flicker of the past that feels so complete.

Yet, as I reached out, yearning to touch, to feel her hand in mine,

she'd slip away, elusive as the morning mist, leaving me to pine.

"Don't hide," I'd whisper, voice choked with tears, "why won't you speak to me?"

the silence was her answer, a void where warmth used to be.

"Have I done wrong?" my heart cries out, "Why do you make me feel this pain?"

is it anger, is it sorrow, that keeps us apart again?

"I promise to be better," I plead into the emptiness,

"no more tantrums, no more fights, I'll do all my chores, no less."

forgive me for the harsh words, spoken in a moment's heat,

when in anger you pinched me hard, and I wished your heartbeat to cease.

"Please, don't scare me anymore," I say, my voice a fragile thread,

"embrace me, I'll obey," I vow, feeling the fear and dread.

"Stop hiding, for heaven's sake," I call into the silent air,

hoping somehow, someway, she might return, and my despair repair.

In slumber deep, I'd see her, her touch so soft upon my head,

her smile, a beacon in the dark, yet when awake, she fled.

The joy of dreams turns to confusion in the light of day,

why can't my sisters see her too? I wonder, in dismay.

Our home, once filled with laughter, now echoes with silent tears,

my sisters pack their bags, their smiles gone, replaced by fears.

"Dad's changed," I note, his eyes now distant, his laughter lost,

as if a part of him had died, the part that warmth embossed.

"Speak, oh please, speak," I urge her, my voice tinged with desperation,

"tell them you're here," I beg, seeking to end this isolation.

"Your presence could bring peace back," I whisper to the void,

hoping for a sign, a sound, that this emptiness might be destroyed.

"Please, don't walk away," I implore, my words a desperate call,

"understand, she's just upset, for those times I left it all."

My sisters hesitate, their faces painted with concern,

unaware of the storm within, where the truth would churn.

The doctor, with his clinical gaze, brings forth a somber tone,

"your pain," he begins, "is not of flesh, but of a heart alone."

He continues, his voice a dirge, "Your mother, she has passed,

taken by a silent foe, a virus, swift and fast."

"No," I retort, my voice filled with venom, a refusal to accept,

"she's here, I can feel her, she's just playing, just kept!"

"why do you insist," I shout, "on this cruel, twisted lie?

she's hiding, as we always do, not waiting in the sky!"

Time marched on, relentless, its hands carving through my soul,

acceptance crept in like the cold, making every part of me feel old.

The truth, a heavy cloak upon my shoulders, weighed me down,

the last words we shared, harsh and loud, now echoed with a frown.

Regret became my constant companion, a shadow on my path,

the finality of goodbye, a wound that time alone could not salve.

"Now that I've counted enough," I whisper to the night,

"i'll never find you here, in this world devoid of light."

The pain, it consumes, a fire that burns without a flame,

anger, sorrow, mixed in one, a cocktail of endless blame.

But when my time comes, when I descend to where the damned reside,

i'll find a way, through hell's own gate, to reach the other side.

In Heaven, where you dwell, I'll search you out, my only quest,

to hold you once, one final time, to find some peace and rest.

With every sin, every fault, I'll cross the great divide,

to whisper sorry, to embrace, and in forgiveness, abide.