felt your warmth
crawl inside the empty
bones of Springfield
and I offered a sigh
of relief.

it wasn’t home without you
and I couldn’t breathe
without witnessing
a little part of me drifting
away every time.

for a year it sat as
a museum.
and for a year I tried
to trace our old paths
but the streets were
no longer familiar.

it was an empty house
my empty house
that I had once lived in
and each weekend I
would return to it,
trying to figure out
where everything
once was.