you
are the breath of air
i inhale again and again
the oxygen that swirls inside me and
fills my lungs with life
lasting only for a second before you
leave
again

you
are the warmth
between my hands when
i drink a cup of coffee
on cold winter mornings
there for a while before you
go
away

you

are the sigh
that escapes my lips every time
you look away

the emptiness between my fingers as
i sit alone at night
folding the sheets into the spaces

the tear that i release because
i can't hold back anymore

spoonfuls of ice cream through
midnight tv

melody of that song
we liked

puppy-eared pages of
memories

yo
     u
        .
       .

       .

i want to throw
my mug across
the room
let the shattered pieces curl
away from me
in the dusty crevices
because i
am tired of the warmth it emanates

as well as
the lie that it helps me weave in my mind
telling me
that i am
(not)

alone.