Absence

I'll take the hand of this old lady and I'll walk her across the street.
I'll wake up screaming every morning to the sound of my heart beat.

A good deed or two isn't enough to replace the absence of you,
it aches and it hovers, over my every move.

From emotional to mental, and then from mental to physical.
It evolves from pain to complete numbness.

I stumble, I think; I think back to a moment of sanity.
Sanity, that I'll never get back,
for your absence has me paralyzed and impaired.