I don't remember the last time
I heard your voice
or the last time you spoke so
nice and softly to me
like you used to.
I listen to old voicemails
just to hear that voice again.
I don't know what form of torture you
would call that,
but it's like putting a drop
of water in the desert
making it long for more
but we all know water doesn't
belong in the desert.
you don't belong here
with me anymore.