A regular jagged empty area

There's really not much to say about it.
I'm lonely.
I can feel quite definitely the place
where the missing piece should be.
It is a regular jagged empty area,
nondescript, but real.
I feel fond towards it most of the time
knowing the piece exists,
that I've carried it in me, complete.
All of you, everyone that I am far from,
I am well and full and brightly being myself,
but tonguing that jagged hole
like the sore crater of a pulled tooth.
I am fascinated by the pain.
I return to it, feeling, feeling, feeling.
You should be there.