I discovered then
that love was not
the clenching of a
heart, or the pattern
of a pulse in
double time

but the
emptiness of
the seat opposite
you at breakfast

and the bitter taste
of coffees laced with
goodbyes

How can emptiness be so heavy?

i type my middle name cautiously
s
e
o
y
o
u
n
g
and watch resignedly as the red squiggle appears underneath
but with smug satisfaction
i right click
and hit
'add to dictionary'
hah, take that
i am now part of the lexicon
and you can't stop me

i’ve never been in love
but i have been in pain
and it’s basically the same thing
isn’t it?