Time after Thyme

I miss the girl that has driven this pen to parchment in prior moments of time,
Some how the sequence of confused and chaotic thoughts put to lines of literature set my mind at ease allowing to briefly be described as fine,
How much solitude and devoted apologetic restitution must be sorrowfully served for my personal 1st degree aggravated emotional crime,
I genuinely and ruthlessly have been shot point blank by your absence leaving my highest hopes to be wasted in the darkest depths of misery's dismal dank grime,
In the voice of our "sistuh" I insistently crave to hear "Russell" leave your lips as luminescent audible portions of hope beaming to the depths bringing light to shine,
Without you my day to day is achievable but bland and uninteresting like a singular straight branch less vine,
I hope beyond my grandest desire that your forgiveness and my apologies will finally permanently align,
Until that bond I will be here alone unwanted and unused like every kitchen's spice rack's still sealed Shaker of Thyme.