its going to be a long way
to find you again.
i know your hands more
than i know your face,
the house is louder
at the same time, emptier
the echoes seem louder.
i dont have it in me anymore
i cant see except for closed doors
where it is empty, it is full.
these echoes are louder than the present
i want to breathe nothing less, nothing else.
promise not to take away the pain,
much too soon. much too soon.
living seems odd now