How am I supposed to start a new year without you

I can hear the rain
As it taps on my window
And I think back to a time
Where I'm laying in your bed
With the same rain against your window

And it shouldn't make me sad
The fact that you're hearing the rain
Against her window now
But yet, it does

My mom thinks it's a cold, but really I'm just missing you.

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

You'll be the third perfect face I've seen in a coffin
When all I should be seeing is wrinkles

The world is a harsh place