He is worthy of no poem anymore.
One month ago, he appeared in a dream. Long had been since last time. In this sleep, he seemed to be back at my side; until I looked away for a split second and he was no longer. At last, I found him and, along, disappointment in glancing no trace of regret on his face. I, then, questioned how had I been left again, but no words were broken to comfort my bruised heart. I turned my back to him. And woke up.
Just as I'd been in the past over-a-few months, I woke up incomplete; there was certainly a void in me, the kind they sing about. I could feel a void, not derived from lacking a part of me he still holds, but one I lost on the way. He never took the part of me I so truly offered. And I shared so much of me! Now I want but to gather my halves back.
They were mine to keep, all along.