I hate when you leave the toilet seat up Or how you spill toothpaste over the sink I hate finding your clothes hung over furniture And how you sleep pushed up against my back Radiating your heat all through the night I hate even more waking and realizing you're gone I still can't bring myself to erase the signs of you It's been a hundred and twenty days since you left A hundred and twenty days since I last saw you A hundred and twenty days since I touched you I remember staying up late at night You said you'd travel to the most distant places With or without me I never thought you'd actually do it A hundred and twenty days since you left I still feel you pushed up against me at night And I wake to an empty spot on the bed With a matching pain in my heart While grief is the only one I wake up to A hundred and twenty days since your death
Shared on Hello Poetry on October 7, 2017 All rights reserved under Bianca Reyes Blah blah blah Enjoy