Thursday morning, I woke up empty
My limbs so heavy, I was sinking into sand
I knew by a few hours, all would be forgotten
Even though the photos would always last

I think my memory is better than that of others
Because even in dreams, I remember their faces
I remember their names, their voices, their talk of lost loves
And the unspoken acknowledgment of the broken divide

I used to think it was their fault, but maybe it's my own
As I wish to stop all the clocks, keep things frozen in the dark
Keep our hearts warm with drinks from cold cans
And our conversation flowing like the smoke we exhale from our lungs

I regret nothing but refusing to say more
in the day like I had
the night before