some days it's fine
some days my bones ache and scream
to find your familiar touch
to find that safe place between your ribs
which so perfectly held my head

some days it's fine
and I don't see you in the grass
or all the colors in the clouds
they've drifted apart
just like us

some days it's fine
and i kick back with the whisky
we used to drink
with each drop i cherish the memory
of what you left me with

some days it's fine
other days i sit here
writing poems
to heal the wounds that have yet to fully
close