this couch seems so empty
with just me on it.
i am so lonely here
on this couch.
the songs i hear
are making me long
for your arms around me -
comfort me,
let me cry,
and please
just let me speak.

i'm so physically,
mentally,
and emotionally
exhausted.
i'm so tired
no amount of sleep
will help me.
i'm so tired
but
my thoughts are racing
at one hundred miles an hour.
but i can't quiet them.
i can't sleep,
i can hardly eat -
i'm so sick of this place.


but i'm trying my best to be better.

i need to get away
from here
just for a short time -
escape this place
i know all too well.
i'll turn off my phone,
pack some snacks,
take a book,
but no maps.
i'll savor everything,
and photograph nothing.
hopefully i can clear my head,
lord knows it's too
crowded in there.

i was given the ability
to stand tall and strong
but
i'm on my hands and knees,
bent under the weight on my shoulders.
that weight is unbearable -
i feel my back cracking under it.
i know i have it in me
to stand tall and strong again
i just have to dig deep.

it's 12:34 am
and i'm alone
and longing for someone.
i will be alone
and longing for someone
at 12:34 am tomorrow,
and the next day,
and the next day,
and the next day.
i wish for one day
to not be alone and longing for you
at 12:34 am.

this is the third thanksgiving without you.
this is the third thanksgiving without your laugh.
this is the third thanksgiving without the question "are your still playing?"
this is the third thanksgiving without that faint tobacco smell following you.

this is the fourth thanksgiving without you.
this is the fourth thanksgiving without you yelling at my uncle for his hair.
this is the fourth thanksgiving without you're criticisms about the soup being salty.
this is the forth thanksgiving without your two cents about politics.

i hate having two less seats at the table.

it's thanksgiving.
i'm so grateful for everyone in my life
and
all the incredible things i've done this year,
but i still feel like something is missing.

(and it's you)