I'm staring up at the ceiling as if it were something interesting...
As if..
I haven't scanned ever corner of this white textured paint.
I wonder
If you've checked your voicemail since October
Or how I ended up in this bed,
Grasping this quilt as if my life depends on it.
The corners of my eyes have gained bursted blood vessels
I wonder
If you feel like this.
Like the space between our hands haven't healed since the beginning of time..