On Monday,
I waited for you
to come back from the bathroom.
Most days,
I feel like telling the stars
they are ugly,
Laughing heartily in
the eye of a storm,
and
watering the rivers
of the world
until they, too,
understand drowning.
Be with me now,
be still.
Most days,
I still can't stand the sound
of the doorbell ringing.
I know you won't be calling.
I don't even feel like me.
And this is how I miss you.
-I'll leave the light on, you'll have travelled a long way
-m.c.