Growing up too fast

The birds are singing.
They seem to understand.
This silence so deafening,
So hard to bear.

Quiet.
My rapid heartbeat,
My long and deep breath,
My sigh.
I am left with a broken body.

Touch.
Your strong arms,
Your firm hold,
Your wrap around my body.
You are nothing but a memory.

Fragile.
Your tiny snores,
Your soft hair,
Your smooth baby face.
You are at the core of our hearts.

Hectic.
Rush, run, rush.
No pause, no break.
We are left with "breaking down"