You have inhabited my 2am thoughts, and although I want to remind you just how much I love you in these hours, I know these aren't like old times. So I'll stare at my ceiling—reciting these lines— in attempt to muffle the sound of my heart breaking each night.

You have found home in my favorite songs, and although music is my escape from everything else, it has never been an escape from you. For every verse has a way of bringing up our love, and every chorus has a way of bringing up tears.

Memories of you have resided in the spines of all my books. I'll pretend the playlist you made me in December isn't the bookmark in one of them still. Either way, they are all collecting dust on my shelf now.

You are the common strand running through all my recent lines, and I want to stop titling all my heartbroken words with your name.

-k.w//you, you, you