You Vanished
by A. A. Parr
for M.

Two years ago, you
vanished
that smiling family portrait
still clinging to its place
of careful reverie
you wished it could fill.

I understand, because I
vanished once -
twice -
before, too.

So I know you're still there,
glinting from the shadows,
pulling back the edges until
the bandaid comes off, the
wound revealed -
not healed -

but wanting again
to breathe.

Please subscribe to keep reading.