what is left

You are not here.
And I am losing my will to breathe,
to move forward as I allow myself
to unroll at the seams,
careening forward into indulgence.
I am left with your weight
on my heart, your scent
crowded along the edges
of my body, teeth rattling,
breath heaving as I am gasping,
trying to fill myself full
of what memories I have
left of you
before they fail me.

Because I cannot find the words right now

When I recall that nevermore, alas!
That lady shall I see
On whose account I mourn with such dismay,
My grieving thoughts about my heart amass
Such sorrow that I say:
"My soul, why dost thou not depart from me...?"

-Danté Alighieri