A poem: It is Death

I smell you,I feel you
but you are merely mist.
You died the other day
and I am dead since then.
The door will open,
the phone will ring
and for a brief moment
it is you, until the
memory comes flooding.
I can only taste
the salt from my tears,
feel the ache in my chest
and an overwhelming
sense of gone.
Cannot touch you
cannot see you;
you are like dust swept away,
words erased from a page.
I am alone now
standing in a crowded room
with everyone but you
and I can't see them.
Does your heart still grasp to life,
searching frantically for yourself
wanting to breathe, to live
but now you simply drift?
I sit in your old chair
the imprint of your soul remains,
the sound of your voice
still sounds the same.
Is it better to leave
than to lose?
One day I will know
and I will see you again.