I said your name today. I thought I said your name. But I must have said something else. Because it did not hold the same significance and pain.
The words on my lips were as foreign as the names of places you've been. It didn't fill my head with foam- didn't flood my lungs with ocean.
And the miles and seconds and days and months did not crush me under your smile. Because I said your name. And it was just your name. And it has lost its charm for a while.
How alien it felt after a year of being trapped by those three syllables.