moving on from you was my hardest task.
is my hardest task. present tense.
my friends’ concern grows with each
day that I spend confined to my room,
each day a word does not pass through
my mouth and they ask me why you were
so special. what about you hooked me.

and it is fair of them to ask cause I would
not expect them to understand the way
the morning sun lit up your eyes.
they’ve never noticed how that curl of your
hair always falls across your face. or
the way the right side of your mouth
raises a little higher than the other when
you’re about to say something sarcastic.
they don’t know how intimidating yet
intriguing you are, that it intoxicated me.
I had to always be near you.

and now you left me here to wake on
my own, to think only about your eyes
and the morning sun and how even you
managed to make 6 am so wonderful.
but you’re not here and the clock reads
1 pm and I still can’t manage to get out
of bed. how can I tell them what I’ve lost?
I’m left with this gaping wound that no one
can see, and drowning in the words I can’t speak.